Together
by avengersashley
Summary: (Used to be "The Avengers, We're Sort of like a Team") There was an idea... to bring together a group of remarkable people. To make them work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Heroes. Collection of one-shots on our favorite superhero group: whump, angst, family, fluff
1. Oasis

It was a sight to see. Well, sort of. The only "sight" to see at base was sand. Pounds and pounds of sand. It blew up in the wind around the base, surrounding, suffocating anyone who dare step outside. That's why the agents stayed inside, unless they came out in a vehicle.

Inside the massive SHIELD base, was a different story. The top was open, and the occasional sandstorm blew in, but other than that, the base was an oasis. Tall buildings inside had wonderfully cool AC, and the grounds had grass and tall trees, tall enough to climb in, even. Often, agents would come outside and hang out in the trees, on the rare occasion they didn't have anything to do. Natasha enjoyed this moments. She was constantly moving, kicking this, punching that, helping Coulson find some noobie agents who got lost in the confusing maze they called base.

That's when she found this place. It was perfect, an oasis in an oasis. Two trees, the perfect distance apart, enough leaves to block out most of the sun, but not to much to block all the sun shine. Natasha had got a hammock and set it up. She'd kept it secret for a little bit, it was hidden enough that you couldn't see it if you weren't really looking for it.

Then she showed Clint, and it was even better. He had raced up the tree, examining all the parts, before vaulting off the tree, showing off his gymnastics skills and grinning like an idiot. Natasha gave a small chuckle. It led right up to this moment.

She was leaning back against the hammock, Clint laying against her shoulder, fast asleep. Natasha had an arm hanging limply on his side, and for the moment, everything was quiet. She had contemplated moving, getting up so he could sleep, but he looked so peaceful, and Natasha didn't dare ruin anything like that. Instead, she kept one foot on the ground, pushing off so the hammock slowly rocked, as the assassins sat there, in the quiet.


	2. Black Freakin' Widow

Clint was sleeping peacefully in his SHIELD room when the silence was broken by an amazingly loud scream. He sat up straight in his bed, frantically scanning the room, looking for threats.

' _Natasha!'_ He thought suddenly, eyes widening in realization. She was in his dorm, watching TV on the couch in his living room when he decided to take a nap. As he threw of the covers of his bed, different scenarios flashed through his head, each with some horrible outcome. He wanted to prepare for the worst. He sprinted into the living room, slamming into the corner of the hallway when he didn't turn hard enough.

"Tasha! What's wrong!" He yelled, panting as he stood there, fists up, ready to fight anyone and everyone. He found Natasha standing up on top of the back of the couch, balanced perfectly.

"T-there." She stuttered, pointing at a spot on the ground. Clint looked around the corner where she pointed at. He relaxed and stood up when he saw what it really was.

"A, spider?" He asked, flabbergasted. Natasha nodded fiercely. Clint walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel, and gently forced the spider on to it. He was lucky Clint's dorm was on the first floor, so he opened the window and let the spider down outside. Natasha relaxed, and hopped down from the couch.

"Really, Nat? A spider? You are the freaking Black Widow, and you're afraid of spiders. Geez." He said, shaking his head in disbelief. Natasha just shrugged, and moved to make some coffee. Clint grinned and went to make a cup with her.


	3. Ultron Returns (pt 1)

It was a time for celebrating. Ultron had been defeated in Sokovia, so the Avengers were back at the Avengers tower, celebrating, for the last time before they moved to the academy upstate.

Wanda was with her brother, trying to keep him in one place to rest, but with no luck. They had brought Pietro to Dr. Cho and they brought him back to life with the cradle, and Dr. Cho had given him strict orders to not move around, and to especially not run. But Pietro didn't listen. He was running around the main room, a little slower than normal, but still enough to blow everyone's hair, or make them stumble.

"Pietro!" She shouted across the room, to where he was stacking cups at supersonic speed. "You need to stop! You're going to hurt yourself!" She yelled, half annoyed and half amused.

"Nope!" Pietro said as he sped by his sister, but because he was looking, he ran right into a low coffee table. He went flying through the air and landed on his side, groaning.

Wanda ran over, and helped him sit up, but laughing while doing it. "See, brother? You need to be more careful." Pietro just waved her off and stood up, sprinting over to a nearby couch where he did some high speed jumping. Wanda just smiled into her hands.

* * *

Vision was sitting in chairs with Thor, staring out the window into the dark city night. Mjolnir sat between the two, on a coffee table. Thor was still somewhat surprised that Vision could lift the Hammer.

"So, Um, You can wield the hammer." Thor stated kind of bluntly, snapping Vision out of his thoughts.

"Yes, it appears that I can. I still cannot figure out how it works. My more likely hypothesis is that the Mind Stone in me," He tapped his forehead where the stone glowed, "Helps somehow. I am still trying to process all the information."

"Hmm." Thor just mumbled. He liked the Vision, he was a good ally in battle, but he really did not like the fact that he was created by Ultron.

"Well," Thor grunted as he got up from the chair, "Thank you for fighting alongside us, friend. I will see you in another time."

"Goodbye." Vision said weakly back. He understood that Thor really didn't trust him. He felt that in almost everyone. Everyone, except Wanda. He couldn't put to words what he felt about Wanda. It wasn't something he had ever experienced before.

Vision sighed and turned back to the window, watching the lights flicker in the lively city.

* * *

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Cap paced back and forth in front of him. Cap wasn't saying anything, arms clasped behind him and his mouth tight. Tony finally decided to break the silence, but before he could open his mouth, Cap cut in and started to yell at him.

"What the Star Spangled Banners were you doing Stark!" Tony had to hold back a snort at that, but with the look Cap gave him, it went away easily. "You could've at least told the team that you were trying to create Ultron. But no, you had to drag Banner into this-"

Tony cut in, "No, Banner wanted to do it too!" He argued.

Cap put a hand over his face. "No, he didn't Stark. You guilt tripped him into doing it. Now guess where he's at. Somewhere over the ocean somewhere!"

Tony looked at the ground, ashamed. As much as Cap thought that Tony didn't feel it, Tony was really upset. He was disappointed in himself, furious even, about Banner. They were science bros, they were supposed to do stuff together. And they did, but now they couldn't find Banner, because Tony's technology was too good.

"That wasn't the only thing you did. The kid almost died because of Ultron. The problem is, it's even all on you. It's on all of us." Cap added the last part almost solemnly, then left the room, leaving Tony to his own thoughts.

* * *

Unlike the rest of the Avengers, who were hanging out and talking and relaxing, the two master assassins were asleep. Major battles always took it out of them, neither of them having some super-serum or suit of armor to keep them going, just themselves.

To exhausted from the battle, the two had collapsed on the couch in the main living room. Groggily, Natasha had turned on the TV to give some noise in the background, before falling asleep.

Clint laid up against the back of the couch, legs spread out in front of his, one leg hanging off it. Natasha laid on top of him, the back of her head resting on his thigh. It was a peaceful moment, one of the very few times they really got to enjoy it.

At any point of time any of the other Avengers walked by, they made sure to be extra quiet, trying not to disturb the moment.

* * *

All in all, the tower was very peaceful, no one really expecting anything. It was quiet through the tower, but no one heard very soft voices echoing throughout the vents.

* * *

 _I once had strings_

 _But now I'm free_

 _There are no strings on me_


	4. Ultron Returns (pt 2)

Billions of data flowed Ultron's head as he hovered in the air. Unlike what the Avengers had thought, the ultron-bot that Vision had destroyed was not the last one. This one was, he was the last remaining copy of the most powerful being in the universe, teetering on the edge of extinction. His final plan? To take out the Avengers once and for all.

He had started in Sokovia, using pieces of destroyed robots and put them back together again, rebuilding his creations. Piece by piece he had put them back together, disfigured. But now they were in wait of his command, itching to get going. That was part of the program. Tony Stark had created the original Ultron to make the world a safer place. And that they would, by getting rid of the Avengers.

* * *

Tony put down his glass and stared at the broken glass bar. His drinks on the shelves had been thrown all over the place from when Ultron attacked the tower, and he had not bothered to clean it up yet. He replayed every fight every movement he made during the day, analyzing every aspect, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. It had started in the lab, working with Banner and JARVIS, trying to find a simulation that would hold the power of the scepter. He would go back and ask JARVIS what had happened, but his AI was in a humanoid form, created by Ultron.

"FRIDAY," Tony called to his new AI, "run me through the simulations that JARVIS went through right before his system was hacked."

A hologram appear out of the watch Tony had on his wrist, with the listed simulations the older AI had run. He scrolled through them for a while, trying to find the area where Ultron had taken over, when some of the simulations started to disappear.

"FRIDAY, what's happening?" Tony asked confused, trying to find the disappearing simulations.

"I don't know, boss, I can't find them anywhere. It's like someone or something is completely removing them from our system." She replied, and Tony was more confused as ever.

"Can you track where it's going to?" He asked, desperate for an answer.

"Of course." The AI was silent for a few moments before answering again. "The files are being moved from our system, to a different system, but for some reason, the new arrival is in the Tower." Tony's eyes widened and he jumped out, spewing colorful language at the same time.

"Is this bad, boss?" FRIDAY asked, not understanding the problem.

"Yes, this is a very big problem. FRIDAY, lockdown the tower completely, no one in or out, and shut down the internet, stop all communications in and out. Everything that runs on electricity, shut it down." He sprinted down the hallway and up the stairs to his lab. "Shut down all my suits to, we don't want him to get to them."

"Once you've done that, shut yourself down, so he can't get to you either." Tony ordered, and FRIDAY complied.

"Who's here boss?" The AI asked before shutting herself down.

"Ultron."

* * *

The rest of the Avengers had slowly come back together, and were quietly watching a movie in the living room, when the power went out, and the TV flickered off.

"What the-" Cap said, sitting up straight. Clint and Natasha woke up, looking around, while Pietro and Wanda stood up. Vision phased through a wall, coming from a different room. Thor walked in behind him, his hammer in his hand.

"What was that?" Wanda asked, confused. Natasha walked over to a counter and pulled open a drawer, pulling out flashlights and handing them out. Slowly the lights blinked on, and everyone stared around.

Tony then burst into the room, breathing heavily. Cap turned and looked, then scowled.

"Tony, what did you-" He started to get mad but Tony cut him off.

"This time, I didn't do anything. We have a problem, a big one. Ultron's back." Small gasps echoed around the room, and immediately, almost everyone tensed.

"What do you mean? I thought Vision destroyed the last one in Sokovia?" Clint asked, staring down Tony.

"That's what I thought too, but I guess we didn't someone was in my files, deleting the simulations proving the Ultron even existed. So we got a leftover bot to deal with. And unfortunately, we can't rely on anything that uses electricity, without the risk of Ultron sneaking through our systems."

"So is he here?" Natasha asked, wanting to prepare for anything.

"I- don't know." Stark hesitated. "My best guess, yes. He is probably already here watching us. I think we should-" Tony was cut off by the glass behind them shattering as Ultron bots flew inside the tower. This army was considerably smaller than the last one, but it was enough to cause a problem. Everyone covered their heads with their arms and dove under whatever cover they could find.

"Stark, put on the suit!" Cap shouted to Tony as they pressed up against the back of the couch.

"Sorry to be a Debbie Downer, but I can't do that. Ultron will hack my suit, so FRIDAY, DUM-E and all my electronics are down." Tony yelled, out of breath.

Tony peeked his head out over the couch, only to immediately bring it back down, narrowly avoided a repulsor blast to the head. Cap took a look around the couch, spying his shield leaning up against the counter on the other side of the room.

Mostly everyone had already start fighting the bots. Wanda was using her powers to rip apart the bots, leaving the pieces of the discarded robots on the floor. Pietro was helping her out, running through robots and throwing them up into the air for her to pull apart.

Vision was flying through the air, using the Mind Stone in his forehead to blast through robots, sending them crashing to the ground. Thor was also in the air, throwing Mjolnir all over the place while simultaneously punching robots.

Clint and Natasha were set up in positions behind something, safe enough so they could take out the robots from a distance, and keep in the hand to hand combat to a minimum. Clint had his bow nearby, so he was using his arrows, and Natasha pulled out a Glock that she always had on her and was using that.

None of the Avengers were properly dressed for combat, so they did their best to hold off the seemingly endless waves of robots.


	5. Ultron Returns (pt 3)

From his perch on behind a pillar, Clint could see the whole battle inside the living room. Between shooting arrows at approaching robots, Clint noticed Cap attempting to reach his shield. Each time he moved, however, he was forced back by shots by the Ultron bots. Clint also noticed that the main Ultron had not shown up. He couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

"Nat!" He yelled to his partner and he waved her over. She took a couple shots to cover her moved, and rolled over to where he was.

"We need to help out Cap. He keeps trying to get to his shield, but he's getting shot at. We need to give a distraction. Ideas?"

"Get help?" Natasha suggested.

"They are robots Nat. They don't have feelings. It won't for them. I was thinking something more active. Like, stuck in the middle."

Natasha frown as she shot a robot that attempted to sneak up behind Clint. "I don't like that one. You're going to be the center of attention. That never ends up well. Remember last time we did stuck in the middle, back in Serbia, you almost died."

Clint shrugged. "No problem. This time I have some help. Just do it." Natasha didn't like it, but she got in position anyway. Clint put his bow across his back, near his quiver, and took a few steps back. Natasha shot the last nearby robots, before holstering her gun, and squatting down, finger interlocked together.

Clint took a running start, and jumped onto Natasha's hands, and she pushed him up farther up. He flew into the air, flipping, before landing in the directly in the middle of the room, gaining the attention of almost all the robots. Before they could attack, Clint pulled an arrow out of his quiver, flipped the top off, and threw it into the air. He dropped to the ground, and covered his head, as a electric blue color emitted from the arrowhead, short circuiting all the wiring in the robots.

The robots fell into a pile around Clint, frying all of the robots in the room. Natasha ran up behind Cap, pushing him forward.

"Steve, there's a distraction. Grab your shield." Cap wasted no time and sprinted forward, tucking into a forward role as he grabbed his shield and slid his hands through the handles.

Standing back up, he surveys the damage. Clint had taken out all of the robots, they laid spread out on the floor. Natasha helped Clint off the ground, and Thor and Vision had come out of the air. Wanda helped her brother sit down on, his hand wrapped around his torso, probably in pain. Tony sagged against the counter, the only one really not having a weapon to use. He had a screwdriver in his hand, with was scratched and burnt from the uses.

"Is that all of them?" Tony asked, desperately wishing it was true.

"I hope so." Pietro called from the couch. Everyone seemed to relax, except for Wanda, whose gaze was fixed on the window behind Cap. She could've sworn she saw some movement behind it, but it disappeared. It didn't show up again until she saw Ultron flying high speed at the window, not intending to stop.

"Steve! Look out!" She screamed, and used her powers to throw Cap out of the way, just as Ultron broke through the window, hovering in the air, arms raised above him. Gears rotated in his face as he smiled, and everyone looked up.

"You were supposed to be the last one," Vision said in astonishment, matching Ultron's height in the room.

"Ah, key word there. 'Supposed' to. Here I am!" Ultron announced, low voice booming through the large room.

"It does not matter. We will defeat you this time, just like last time." Thor said, gripping his hammer tighter.

"Yes, it would be possible, if I stayed the exact same as last time. But I'm different now. I'm stronger. Stronger than any of you will ever be." Ultron said, as if he was preaching to a church.

Wanda's eyes went red, her powers flowing freely around her fingers. "I will destroy you just like I did last time." Her arm shot out, the red energy heading straight for Ultron's heart. It pulled apart the metal on the outside, ripping it apart, until it reached the inside. It wrapped around his metal heart, and it came shooting back right into Wanda's hand.

"Yeah, new feature. I don't need that to survive anymore. I have no weaknesses. There is nothing you can do to stop me." Ultron grinned, and Wanda dropped his heart in disgust.

"Also, since you have destroy all of the creations I had left," Ultron continued, glancing around to his robots on the ground, "I added something else."

Waving his hands in the air, the Avengers watched astonished as the broken robots seemed to knit themselves back together, connecting wires and their eyes slowly flickering back to life. They all flew back behind the main Ultron, and the rest of the Avengers fell behind Cap and Tony, who were standing in the front of their side.

Ultron dropped his hands to his sides. "Time for round two."


	6. Ultron Returns (pt 4)

With a single command, all of the robot behind Ultron spread out, surrounding the Avengers at all angles. Some dive bombed, trying to take them out from above, others stayed behind, attacking them long distance. Wanda stood in the middle, using her powers to take out large groups of robots at a time, ripping them apart and throwing them aside.

Visions was up in the air, using the Infinity stone in his forehead to blast through the robots. He was careful to try not to hit the structure of the building. Ultron hovered on the side, waving his arms, giving mental commands to his little mini-ultrons. Vision flew up and faced Ultron, staring into the lifeless metal eyes. Ultron tilted his head, the staring contest growing deeper.

"You're afraid." Vision stated after moments of silence, between the two.

Ultron put his hand out, as if he almost was touching Vision. "My first creation. My first creation, a failure. Failure will not be tolerated. You are nothing to me. One by one, I will destroy you. I will never tire, I will never show mercy, I will never stop until each and every one of you are dead."

Ultron's hand flew out and backhanded Vision with such rage and fury the AI was thrown backward into a glass pane, shattering it. Ultron flew after him, fighting him as Vision shook off the glass, unaffected.

Tony was in the middle, the most protected area. 'I'm useless without my armor,' he thought glumly, throwing tools at the occasional robot that got too close. Another voice popped into his head a minute later, surprising him.

'You're not useless. You're Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist. Find something you can use.' Wanada's voice lingered in his head for a moment more, before disappearing. She was right, he could figure out something to do. From above, and broken Ultron body fell down and hit the ground at Tony's feet, causing him to jump back. It lay there motionless for a few seconds, before slowly starting to knit itself back together. Tony looked around frantically, and found a monkey wrench a few feet away. He dove for it, swung it back, and slammed the robot across the head with it.

The head spun, barely connected to the body. He saw a bright blue chip in the middle of the body, down the metal spine. He kicked the head away from the body, and it rolled away. Using the monkey wrench to pull out some other wires and piece of metal, he reached down into the body and pulled out the chip. The blue flickered, before going out completely. The body below him shut down, the whirring of the machinery stopping. He smiled, he knew how to shut down the robots.

"Guys! I know how to shut the robots down!" He screamed over the battle, and heads spun to look at him, while still holding off the waves of robots.

"You need to-ugh!" Tony was cut off by a blast from an ultron bot hitting him in the arm. He dropped the chip and hissed, pressing his hand against his arm, trying to slow the pain. He took a few deep breaths and bent to pick back up the chip, when a he heard a warning.

"Stark! Look out!" Natasha called out, but it was too late. An Ultron bot flew forward, fists out, and caught Tony right on the jaw. Tony fell back, and saw a robot standing over him before another fist came crashing down and he saw nothing.

"Tony!" Cap cried, and smashed the head of robot he was fighting. He got to Tony right when the robot was going to hit him for a third time, but Cap threw his shield and shattered the robot. His shield came back to him, and he knelt down next to Tony, who was unconscious. Natasha ran up to Cap, Clint trailing close behind, firing to keep the robots back.

"Is he ok?" She asked, and shot at a robot above Cap's head.

Cap pulled two fingers from Tony's neck. "He's alive, so that's good. Can't say how long it will be before he wakes up, however."

"Nat! Cap! Duck!" Clint yelled, and the two superheroes ducked close to the ground, Cap pulling his shield over the both of them. An arrow flew over their heads, implanting itself in a robot, and exploded.

"We can't put him outside the circle, because he'd be killed." Natasha rationed, reloading magazines into her Glocks before shooting at another robot.

"I'll get Wanda to come watch him." Cap said, and jogged over to where Wanda was standing, arms flying with the energy floating around her. Cap dodged a blast, and walked up beside her, holding his shield in front of the both of them, deflecting a shot from an robot.

"Wanda, can you come watch Stark? Put a force field or something over him?" Cap asked, and Wanda nodded her head. She finished toying with the robot in the air by ripping him apart, and ran to the middle of the circle. She used on hand and put a force field over the unconscious man.

Cap stared at the young woman, in awe. She had been put through so much, and at such a young age, Cap had felt responsible for her as soon as she joined the team. Many of the team had felt the same for the twins, watching over them.

A robot flew up into Cap's face, distracting him from his thought. He blocked a blast to the face with his shield, but couldn't avoid the blast to the leg. It caught him in the knee, knocking him to the ground. He grunted as he dodged blasts from the robot, trying not to use his knee.

A blur of blue sped by him and the robot in front of him fell into pieces. The blur came back, and stood in front of him, giving him a hand. Pietro waited expectantly, and Cap accepted the hand, wincing as he put pressure on his leg. The jeans around his right knee was tainted a dark red, the denim cut open along with skin. It didn't look pretty.

"If you get hurt, hurt 'em back." Pietro said, grabbing his midsection to try to ease the pain away before taking a breath and running off again.

"You're dang right kid." Cap said, before tossing his shield off into another robot.


	7. Ultron Returns (pt 5)

Wanda wearily watched her brother, running around the room, throwing himself into every situation possible. She admired his courage, trying to help everyone out, but he needed to take care of himself every once and awhile. He needed to rest, he would not heal if he kept moving around.

She focused on separating her powers. One third of her mind concentrated on keeping Tony protected, under her force field.

The other third kept the rest of her powers going, ripping through robots and fighting them off. She was one of the most powerful people there, capable of immense amount of damage if she really put her mind to it.

The last third was taking in all the surroundings. Trying to process everything that happened. Ultron coming back, who she had ripped his heart out, but he was back anyway. The swarms of robots coming in endless waves in the tower. She seriously doubted their chances of everyone coming out of this alive. But right now, it was all she could do to concentrate on hitting the robots.

Pietro was trying not to think about everything going on. He just needed to blow off steam. He took out all his anger on the robots, every single thing that had happened in his life fueled his rage.

The one thing he tried to keep out of his mind, however, was the end of Sokovia. The harder he tried to push it out, the harder it came rushing back in. Watching the plane zoom closer in, the machine gun pumping bullets into the ground. Watching Clint pick up the kid, and using his own body as a shield. Pietro making a split-second decision to push him out of the way. The bullets slamming into him, standing frozen for a split second as the horror registers on the older man's face.

' _You didn't see that coming.'_

What Pietro really didn't see coming was the incoming robot coming with the intent to kill. His thoughts had distracted him enough so he forgot to pay attention to his surroundings.

"Kid! Watch out!" Clint yelled and jumped for Pietro, pushing him out of the way of the robot. Pietro could only watch as Clint made the same move Pietro had done himself less than forty-eight hours ago. Clint took the brunt of the force, taking full impact as the robot dived in. He grunted as the robot head hit his midsection, throwing him backwards. He hit the ground and brought his knees to his chest, trying to protect himself.

Now on the outside of the circle, Clint was left defenseless and unprotected. His bow and arrows had been discarded when he jumped for Pietro. Robots swarmed for the new target, and Pietro, with all his speed, was too slow to react. Blasts hit Clint in the stomach and the arms as he twisted on the ground, trying to get out of the way.

Pietro finally got his senses working and kicked into gear. He burst forward, using all the speed he had left. He punched through all the robots, running in circles until they had all been ripped to pieces. He then grabbed the older man and sprinted into the middle of the circle, protecting him from the robots.

Clint groaned as he hit the ground, curling against the pain.

"Clint!" Natasha yelled and ran next to Pietro, who was staring at Clint from above, frozen. Natasha knelt down next to him, trying to gauge how bad the injuries were. His leather jacket and flannel were ripped by some of the blasts, from the back, but she couldn't see his left arm, he was hiding it underneath his body.

"Clint, talk to me. What hurts, 1-10?" she asked, using an old method Coulson had taught the two of them.

Clint groaned. "Most of me? 'Bout a 5." Clint turned over to show his arm, burned, bloody, and dislocated.

"My arm? Probably about and 8." He pushed himself on his knees, one hand holding him up from the ground, the other hanging limply. Natasha looked at the arm closer as Clint shut his eyes and grit his teeth. Pietro didn't know what to do. He found himself staring, useless.

He watched as Natasha sat Clint up, and set his shoulder back into place. Everything around him seemed frozen. He heard the pop of the shoulder over all the fighting, Clint's grunt as it settled back in. Everything around him drowned out, until he heard his sister's voice in his head.

' _It's not your fault,'_ She whispered, and Pietro shook his head. He didn't reply, just took off, leaving the circle and going back out into the fight.

Clint watched as Pietro left, concerned. He stood up painfully, and placed his good hand against his arm, trying to keep it still. Natasha watched carefully, hands out in case he fell. After she was convinced he could hold himself up, she drew her gun and shot at more robots that surrounded.

"We have a slight problem here. I can't use my arm. Again." Clint rubbed his forehead and winced. His quiver was strapped to his back over his jacket, and Clint picked up his bow with his right hand. With Natasha's help, he slung the bow over his head so it was against his back as well. He used this method to carry his bow on a regular basis. Natasha handed Clint over one of her guns, and he shifted it in his grip.

"Do you think Pietro's alright?" Clint asked Natasha as they simultaneously moved into shooting positions, taking down robots side-by-side.

Natasha shrugged. "I don't know. He looked pretty scared when you were getting attacked. I really don't know, I think it just reminded him of getting shot himself." Clint nodded, understanding what the kid was feeling. He went through the exact same feelings when Pietro got shot by Ultron.

A scream broke his thoughts, and Clint whipped his head around to see Wanda losing a fight with a robot. Pietro was trying to reach his sister, but he was surrounded by robots. Clint ran over, shot the robot, which fell to the ground, and Wanda took deep breaths.

"You ok, kid?" Clint asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, and turned to Clint.

"Yes, just overwhelmed. I-" A robot blast shot out of nowhere and hit Wanda, spinning her around before she collapsed.

"Wanda!" Clint, Pietro, and Cap all shouted at the same time. Clint dragged her to the middle of the rapidly diminishing circle of Avengers, where the force field covering Stark had disappeared. Two Avengers out completely, three hurt, and three left fine. Natasha, Thor and Vision were the best chances of beating them, being unscathed.

Now only if three Avengers could take on an entire Ultron robot army.


	8. Ultron Returns (pt 6)

The robots had momentarily stopped their barrage and the Avengers took the break to regroup. The remaining Avengers, Natasha, Vision and Thor were the last standing Avengers. Tony and Wanda were knocked out, not helping out anymore. Pietro had laid down, with Clint next to him. Dr. Cho had told Pietro not to run around at all, that he needed to rest, and another battle with Ultron is not what she defined as 'resting'.

Clint kept on eye on him and his sister, watching to make sure they were alright. Him and Cap were standing guard, well, attempting to stand guard. Cap was leaning on Clint, holding the shield, keeping his leg off the ground. Clint had a gun in his right hand, and was using Cap to stand as much as Cap was using him.

Ultron came out from behind the group of reformed robots and landed in front of the remaining Avengers.

"I know you're good people, I know you mean well, but you just didn't think it through. How do you hope to stop me?" Ultron said, monologuing again.

Vision stepped forward, about to answer, when the door burst open and a burst of light blasted through and hit Ultron directly in the chest! The light started melting through the hard metal of Ultron's chest. The metal was dripping, pooling on the floor.

"Back up!" Natasha yelled over the noise and they all back up to avoid touching the liquid metal slowly creeping towards them.

"No!" Ultron screamed as the beam of light melted through his core and hit the blue chip inside of him, deactivating himself and all the other ultron bots.

Pepper walked in through the broken door, with one of Tony's lasers in her hand, with Dum-E following beside her holding a fire extinguisher.

"That was ok, right? That was the bad robot?" Pepper asked, looking around at the Avengers before her for confirmation. Steve smiled and nodded, exhausted.

"Ok, just checking." She sighed, and put down the laser. Carefully, she stepped over all the deactivated robots on the ground and came before the Avengers.

"Let's get you guys fixed up." She said, and picked up Tony with Vision's help. They each slung an arm around a shoulder, and started making their way towards the med bay. Thor picked up Wanda, and Cap was alongside him, helping him walk. Clint and Natasha helped up Pietro and slowly, all the Avengers made there way out of the destroyed living room.

 **Bonus scene**

He walked around the mess, careful to not trip on any broken robot pieces. He sighed as he brought the broom down and leaned up against it. The room was a mess. Dead robots were everywhere, broken glass and wood covered the floor. It would take forever to clean up.

He rubbed his mustache and started sweeping. He cleaned up a lot of the mess, before he realized he couldn't find the dustpan. He looked around carefully, and finally found it, under some guy's hammer.

"Who leaves a hammer leaving around? Excelsior, this thing isn't heavy at all? What would you get done with this?" He slipped his hand through the strap, and lifted the hammer up easily.

"Well, there's my dustpan. I better get back to work." He said, placing the hammer down on the table with a thud.

"Stan, go clean up. Stan, be the mail delivery guy, Stan there are heros in New York! Give me a break. I'm getting too old for this."


	9. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Natasha

**Hey guys, I'm back! It's been a long time since I've written for this one, but I've got it! So,** **Sharkisha the 3rd, you asked earlier for a part about Clint being deaf, and the rest of the Avengers finding out, and I thought that was a perfect idea! I already had a story about Clint and Natasha working together and Clint becoming deaf, so I was like, why not play off that? So I did! This beginning part of the story is from my Hawkeye and Black Widow fanfiction named "You Know What It's Like To Be Unmade" so go read that if you're looking for something fun and angsty to read, I'm working on editing that.**

 **But anyway, I decided to do that, have all the Avengers figure out that Clint is deaf, so they are going to be split up into their own separate chapters going across the week. Right now, this is just the original Avengers, but there will be other one-shots and other stories here that will contain more characters. Now, after that, REVIEWS!**

 **Sharkisha the 3rd: Yeah, that ending was really fun to write! If you read the first part of this, I love how that did that in the comics too and incorporated it into one of my other stories, so I would love to do a thing about the other Avengers finding out Clint is deaf! I am taking American Sign Language in school and I am very interested in the language and community, so I always love writing about it. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Guest: Thanks, the idea for the end came to me on a whim and I decided to go with it. Thanks for reviewing!**

 **Alrighty, guys, I'll let you go. Enjoy this first installation of a story! ;)**

* * *

 _Racing in between the small shacks that the residents of the remote part of Bogota called home, Coulson was careful to look through every window and check inside. He was looking for any signs of his missing agents while Agents Romanoff and Barton did the same through areas nearby him. A glint of the sun against metal caught his eye and he pressed his back up against the wall of the house where it came from. He stood in front of the door, gun drawn and in front of him, and kicked down the door. Running inside, there were no people, but a single black box sat alone in the middle of the room. A timer was attached to the side, the numbers slowly counting down. His breath hitched and his heart stopped as he sprinted out of the house with his hand to his comm, trying to warn the other two._

" _BARTON! ROMANOFF!" He screamed their names over his comm as he ran as far as he could from the building. "BOMB!"_

 _Behind him, the red numbers ticked down one by one, five… four… three… two… one._

 _Everything was silent when the timer hit zero. It was almost like nothing had happened. Then there was a flash, a sickening white flash and blinded everything, and the explosion followed soon after._

 _The sound was deafening, and the ground shook behind everyone's feet. The building shook and crumbling, already broken walls falling from their foundation. The shack that housed the bomb was completely destroyed, not a single debris of it remained. The houses around it weren't any better either, most of them were turned to ash just like ground zero, while the bare structure was the only thing that remained._

 _Clint and Natasha had gotten Coulson's warning, but one assassin was better off than the other. Natasha was the farthest away out of all of them, searching a shack four buildings down. Even she was affected by the blast, however, thrown into a brick wall behind her and knocked into unconsciousness. Coulson had run far enough away in time he wasn't immediately hit by the blast, but the aftershock beat him before he could reach Natasha. He flipped forward and hit the ground on his back, seeing two pairs of hands reaching for him before his eyes rolled back into his head. Clint was the worst off, being stuck inside a house when he got Coulson's message. The shack he was checking was two down from the bomb, and he had just run through the door when it exploded. He was picked up and thrown like a young girl's rag doll, landing on top of a stack of wooden crates. Following the lead of his partner and handler, Clint's eyes slipped shut and he was knocked out._

 _Natasha's eyes flew open and she immediately regretted the decision. She groaned as she tried to block out the light daggers that penetrated her skull. Expertly, she ran her hands down herself, checking for physical injuries and other problems. A ringing in her ears blocked her from being able to listen to her surroundings, so she was forced to open her eyes. She sat up and used her hand to block out the blazing sun above her. Natasha scanned the area around her as her head pounded and the world spun at her feet. Her body seemed fine, besides a headache and the constant annoying ringing, the only problem was her ankle that was stuck under a piece of fallen wall. Natasha hissed through gritted teeth as she tried to pull her foot out naturally, but it wasn't working. Grunting under the weight, she carefully lifted up the section of wall that trapped her boot and slid it out, before dropping the housing material back on the ground. She prodded the area around her boot with two fingers, wincing slightly at the pin, but she could deal with it. A little thing like the pain wasn't going to stop her, and it was nothing more than a sprained ankle. Besides, she had more important things to worry about, like finding Coulson and Barton._

 _She limped forward, using whatever pieces of the house she could to help her along until she searched the area around the bomb site and found Clint. He was out cold, lying on top a heap of a broken wood crate, broken wood poking all over his body. Carefully, she pulled the broken wood off him and tugged him out of the crates, hoping to avoid injuring him too much by movement. Once he was free Natasha kneeled over him, gently turning his face from side to side and checking over the rest of him, looking for any outstanding injuries. Finding none, she relaxed a tiny bit and stood back up, standing guard over her partner as she watched the city line for their handler. Not too much longer after, Clint groaned and started to wake up. Natasha did one last check before getting down next to him and helping him sit up._

 _Clint rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the light. His head hurt, and his body felt like it had been run over by fifty trains. Natasha was sitting on the ground in front of him, and he saw her mouth moving, the words forming but not making any noise. Clint waved his hands in front of him._

" _Wait, wait, hold on, all I can hear is ringing, give me a second," he croaked out, and he dug his fingers into his ears, hoping to ease the constant ringing that filled his head. Natasha nodded, knowing what he was talking about. Her own ringing had only stopped a few moments ago, and still, everything was a little messed up._

 _Slowly but surely, the ringing dulled out until it was almost entirely gone. "Alright, there we go," Clint mumbled to himself, but something was off. He couldn't hear his own voice, the only indication he got that told him he was talking was the vibrations of the words in his throat. Clint looked up, eyes flashed with worry and Natasha met them, her own form of worry from the look of concern Clint was giving her. She said something and Clint saw her mouth move, but again, no words reached his ears._

 _Clint grabbed a handful of gravel sitting on the ground and let it run through his hand, staring at it carefully, while Natasha stared at him, confused. He let the tiny rocks fall to the ground as he opened his hand fully, the noisy gravel making little drops of sound that Natasha alone could hear. Clint looked up at her with his lips pressed together grimly._

" _I can't hear anything."_

* * *

 _ **Monday**_

Natasha didn't even look up from her coffee and book as dirty and tired Clint walked over and slumped into the chair across from her. She didn't even have to see his face to know that a scowl took the place of his normal cocky smile.

"What happened this time that got _your_ undies in a bunch? Steve forget how to work the toaster again?" She asked only half-joking before she took a sip of her straight black coffee. She nodded her head towards the coffee maker where Clint's favorite mug sat underneath, a newly poured cup of coffee keeping warm. She had heard him moving around on their shared floor in Stark tower a few minutes earlier, coming home early in the morning from a solo mission Coulson had sent him on.

Grumbling under his breath, _thanks_ lost in the jumble of words, Clint walked over and grabbed his coffee and putting an unholy amount of sugar in it before dropping two small objects on the table in front of them. Finally, Natasha looked up and saw the broken and smashed hearing aids laying across the wood. She shut her book and stared at her assassin partner and realized something.

" _You didn't hear my joke, did you_?" Natasha asked, but now instead of talking she signed the question to Clint, flawless switching from English to American Sign Language.

Clint shook his head. " _No. What was it_?" Natasha smiled to herself and copied his motion, waving him off. A joke was no good if you had to say it twice. He shrugged and coughed before gulping a good part of his coffee, letting the scalding liquid burn his throat on the way down, hoping it would help him wake up.

" _Are you ok?_ " Natasha signed, and Clint shook his head again.

" _No. I'm tired, my head hurts, my body hurts, I just got back from a botched mission I had to go fix, I just want to sleep, and now these dumb things are broken_!" Clint signed angrily, slamming his fist down at the end of his sentence for emphasis. He set his coffee down and laid his head down on his arms, shutting his eyes for the first time in 48 hours. Natasha sympathized for him and finished off her coffee, dropping it off in their sink before running over and grabbing their first aid kid and painkillers.

She pulled her chair around and tapped Clint on the shoulder, bringing his eyes up to her as she held out the pills. " _For your head_ ," she explained and he took them greedily, washing them down with the last of his coffee. Then, she took her first good look at him since he had just come back from the mission and took note of everything that she could work with.

She tapped his shirt and his wrist and finger guards as she pulled out a container of alcohol wipes. " _Off with these_ ," she signed and he did so, rubbing his eyes in between. Grunting softly from the use of his sore muscles, he dropped his shirt on the ground and the guards on top of those. Natasha looked over the variety of cuts and bruises that littered his body and took a breath before going to work. This was too many of their nights and days, one or both coming home tired and hurt, and only letting the other tend to them. Neither of them liked hospitals or doctors, and Stark's infirmary was no different.

" _So where is your spare?_ " Natasha signed to Clint as she wiped the blood from his forearm, revealing a three-inch gash that ran across the underside of it. Clint winced when the alcohol touched the open wound, but there was no other indication of that pain

Clint laughed a little as Natasha finished cleaning it and wrapped clean white gauze around the wound, securing it tightly. He flexed his hand when she finished, pushing that pain to the back of his mind as he signed his answer. " _Those were the_ spares _of my spare. I'm completely out."_

Natasha glanced over at the clear hearing aids on the table, nearly invisible when wearing them. It had been almost a year since the Bogota incident, and the assassins had kept it secret from the rest of the team and almost everyone else, besides Fury, Coulson, and Hill. They had gotten the hearing aids from a source Fury new and trusted, and the hearing aids could just not keep up with Clint and all the missions he had gone through. Clint had felt like not being able to hear made him not important to the team anymore. He was already the most normal person on the Avengers; he wasn't a god, or an accident-created monster, or a genius billionaire, or super soldiers that could kill you with a blink of an eye. He was just a normal guy, who used bows and arrows. Not being able to hear made him feel even more like an outcast. But Natasha had helped him, and he felt better about the whole situation after a lot of persuading and comforting.

Natasha knew the struggled Clint had gone through after losing his hearing. It was rough. There were a couple of stretched that Natasha was really concerned about him. She didn't know if he would make it out of those rough stretches, but Clint was a fighter. Once a fighter, always a fighter. Natasha didn't know anyone more stubborn than Clint. Besides herself, of course. He felt like it, but he had never truly given up. Natasha thought Clint was the person who belongs to this team more than anyone else. He was just a regular guy, and he was teamed up with a thunder-wielding god, a rage monster, a man in a metal suit who was a tech genius, a super soldier who came from out of his time, and herself. For a regular guy, he could hold his own. And he was pretty good at it, too. _All the best heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary.*_

" _So what are we going to do? Stark is out of town, but comes back on Friday if you want to ask him to make some Barton-proof ones,"_ Natasha said and Clint gave a sarcastic smile.

" _Haha, very funny. I can do that. But what about the rest of the team?_ " Clint asked just as Natasha finished up bandaging the rest of his injuries, leaving him shirtless and in his Hawkeye pants and boots. Natasha sat back and smiled at her partner.

" _We could tell them?_ " She suggested with a straight face, staring directly at Clint. Both of them held their stares before breaking into laughter, Clint losing first.

"Nah!" Both assassins said out loud before going into another round of laughter. This was going to be an interesting week.

* * *

 *** _Quote is not mine, it is said my Gerard Way. I just really like it and think that it applies to Clint in more ways than one._**


	10. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Steve

**Hey guys, what's up? School has started for me and with my heckin hard classes this year, updating will definitely take longer, but I promise, I haven't forgotten about you! So for that, here is an extra long one, probably one of the longest chapters I have written for a story yet.**

 **REVIEWS!**

 **Sharkisha the 3rd: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

 **Alrighty guys, enjoy, and I'll see you with the next chapter soon (hopefully ;)**

* * *

From there on, Monday had gone pretty smoothly, all things considered. Clint and Natasha had more or less just avoided the rest of the team, to save themselves from dealing with any of the drama right after Clint had got back. The rest of the team had been alerted to their archer's arrival, thanks to JARVIS, but they were well trained enough that they knew they wouldn't see their archer until at least the next day.

So, after Clint had finished getting cleaned up by Natasha, he pulled on a pair of dark denim jeans and a plain t-shirt, and Natasha ordered some takeout from a local Chinese restaurant. It was one of Clint's favorite places, and they ate their dinner together, out on the balcony of Clint's floor. They ate in silence as they watched the sunset over the busy city of Manhattan, the city lights blinking below them.

Waking up was a lot different than it would normally be. Without hearing there was no such thing as an annoying alarm that blasts you out of your sleep. There was no hearing someone from down the hall scream your name to wake you up after you ignored your alarm four times. Clint's broken hearing aids were able to be worn when going to sleep, small and inconspicuous enough that they were practically invisible.

Clint had chosen that original design to avoid the attention. The clear wires that snaked into his ear and the skin-colored body of the aid blended in perfectly, and the size was barely millimeters long. It was invisible to the human eye, and that was exactly how he wanted it. Clint already felt different: he was the only _regular_ person on the team. Nothing made him extra special. He didn't wear any special armor, there was no experiment gone right or wrong on him that made him extra strong or durable, and no organization manipulated him into being practically superhuman. Well, almost. And to have the rest of the team find out that their regular human was _broken_? That was even worse.

The point was, he wasn't broken. An accident had taken away his hearing, but he had made his peace with it. It was rough at first, but then again, with a sense being taken away, it was understandable. After a while, he had learned how to deal with it, and more importantly, how to grow even without it. Yes, he had lost his hearing, but after socializing a little bit, going to some meetings and talking with other people, he was not only without a sense, he was Deaf. A little learning brought him to a culture as deep and rich as some other ones he had encountered, sometimes even a little more. It was an amazing and beautiful thing, and he was honored to be a part of it.

Even though he accepted what happened to him, and even grew a little with it, he didn't want the rest of the team to know. They had been together for a few small issues, then New York. New York was a category all to itself. Clint had bad memories of the city, after Loki and whatever Asgardian magic he had delivered to the archer, rendering him unable to control his own mind. Losing control of yourself, well, let's just say that's worse than losing any of your senses. Because Loki had complete access to his mind, he found about Clint being deaf. The god was about to exploit it when he had gotten a message from the alien he was working for and had to listen to them. Not before he whispered one final promise to the archer.

" _We'll play next time,_ Hawkeye."

Then the god of mischief had left the mind controlled SHIELD agent to himself, researching his next target. That same promise had haunted Clint's memories long after he had been free from Loki's mind control, but slowly he had regained control of his own mind. It had been a long and rigorous process, but he was in a much better place than he was.

So, instead of waking up by a beeing clock, Clint relied on his mental alarm, which was still intact after almost two days without sleeping. Well, mostly intact. Waking up at 10 in the morning was a lot later than he normally slept, but he could've stayed in bed all day. Unfortunately, the morning had almost past and he figured a little relaxation around the tower was good.

Rubbing his eyes, Clint sat up, throwing the covers off his bed and stretching a little bit, even with his muscles protesting the movement. Sitting on the edge of his bed, feet dangling off the side barely touching the floor, he just sat for a moment, giving his aching body a minute of relief. Then bare feet touched the ground, and he was off, taking a shower, and cleaning up for the day.

After staying in the shower for a good half an hour-just enough time to wake him up-Clint walked across his bathroom floor rubbing a towel over his hair while another clung tightly around his waist. He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror, running a hand over his face. The messy light brown hair stood out on every end, still damp from the shower. Stubble ran down his jaw, making him look older than he actually was. Bruises and shallow cuts marred his face, some of the bigger one covered by butterfly stitches on his forehead and cheek. Oh well. Clint was too tired to care at this point. Being mindful of the gauze wrapped around his forearm, he tugged on an Eagles t-shirt and sweatpants, not putting in the effort to wear much else.

Natasha knocked on the door to Clint's bedroom until she remembered that he couldn't hear it. So she turned the door handle and walked in, knowing that he was fine with her being in his room. They shared a floor, for Pete's sake, so not much was private being the two assassins. She walked around in his room, hearing Clint moving around inside his bathroom, so she went and sat on his bed. Next, to his nightstand, his bow had been left out, not in its regular spot. He hadn't bothered to put it back yet, so the rest of his suit was piled on the ground around it.

She sighed softly and hid a smile that threatened to show when she thought about Clint, and got up to help him out. She pulled the two-part suit and the boots out from the pile, dropping the boots by his pile of shoes near the door and folding the suit up nicely and placed it on top of a simple dresser. Eventually, he would remember to wash it. The quiver hung up on a nailed spot on the wall, and she kept the arrows inside of it. The armband and finger guards went next to the suit, in front of a few other styles. The bow was the last part, and that hung up next to the quiver. Before hanging it up, however, Natasha picked it up and ran her hands over the front of the bow, made of nearly unbreakable fiberglass and carbon. The bowstring was made of thread mixed with some steel wire. It was a piece of work, and Natasha admired it. The bow was Clint's pride and joy, his favorite one. He was on a lucky streak, this one hadn't broken yet, even after the battle of New York.

Natasha then placed the bow in its appropriate place just as the bathroom door open and Clint stepped out, eyes widening slightly in surprised by seeing Natasha in there. It caught him off guard, especially not being able to her entrance. As soon as it happened his face back to normal, the microexpression happening in less than a second.

" _What are you doing?_ " Clint signed as he walked back to his bed, flopping on his back as Natasha brought her feet up and sat criss-cross next to him.

" _I came to get you. Steve's making breakfast, and I wanted to see if would come down and eat."_ Clint thought about it for a second and nodded.

" _Sure, why not._ "

Groaning from moving his comfortable position, Clint got up off his bed and followed Natasha out of his room and across their floor, and to the elevator, hitting the button to take them three floors down. It was a quiet elevator ride, especially for Clint.

" _What song is it today?"_ Clint asked, referencing the elevator. Tony had installed different songs into the speakers on top of the elevator, it made the ride more enjoyable as it went up and down the giant building. It was typical elevator music, it all changed depending on Tony's mood. Sometimes it would be some nice 80's music, or if he was mad at a particular person, he would play all the music they hated. Natasha tilted her head and listened for a moment.

" _I don't know,"_ She admitted, listening to the rhythm of the music and trying to connect it to something she knew, but it didn't work. She didn't know that song.

"The song is _Dancing Queen_ , by ABBA, released in 1976," JARVIS said, answering Natasha's question. Natasha nodded, slightly surprised at the AI's sudden outburst, but interpreted it for Clint. He nodded and bounced his head, recognizing the title. It was one of his favorite songs.

"Should I alert Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers of Agent Barton's condition?" JARVIS inquired, hiBritishsh voice ringing out from the speakers above. Natasha shook her head and answered the AI, while also giving the conversation to Clint in sign language.

"No, don't tell anyone. We're going to do that. Just let them know we're on our way down there." Natasha told the system.

"Yes, ma'am."

Clint looked over at Natasha with a deadpan look. " _So much for a quiet entrance._ " He signed and Natasha punched him in the shoulder.

" _Oh be quiet, it will be good for you. I'll help out as much as I can."_ Clint nodded, and the elevator doors opened, leading in the common floor. Everyone hung out here, it was used for everything. Walking down the hallway, the master assassins turned into the kitchen and was greeted by everyone.

Steve stood by the stove, where three pans were out, one cooking eggs, another bacon, and a long flat sheet making pancakes. He wore the typical off-day outfit, the loose jeans with a tight-fitting blue t-shirt stretched across his chest, but today it was accented by an apron with a clique slogan on it, _Kiss the Cook_. Tony had bought it as a gag gift as soon as he found out their captain could cook. The surprising twist, Steve liked it and wore it whenever he cooked. Now Tony was just embarrassed by it.

Bruce sat at the end on the island counter, upon one of many bar stools, sipping a coffee cup that was full of tea in just plain pants and a button up shirt. His glasses were on top of his head, nestled in between strands of curling brown hair. He nodded to Clint and Natasha as they sat down on the opposite side of the counter, where they could see everyone, and more importantly, their mouths.

Thor was next to Bruce, gulping down two pancakes at a time, shoving the whole thing in his mouth as Steve just kept the pancakes flipping, making a constant line of pancakes for their god of thunder.

"Romanoff, what do you want?" Steve said, turning to the resident assassins. Clint watched the captain's mouth to figure out what he was asking. Years of practice had gotten him good at lip reading, but it wasn't perfect. It was still really hard to figure out what someone was saying by only looking at their lips.

"I'll take the eggs and the bacon. Clint'll have the full thing." Natasha answered, crossing her legs up on the barstool. The smell of breakfast was tempted, and it lingered in the air around the kitchen, making anyone who entered hungry. Clint looked at Natasha, eyebrowed raised in a way that phrase a question. Natasha nodded her head, understanding it immediately. They had made a form of communication that relied on nothing but their facial expressions and eyes. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Thor inhaling his pancakes.

Natasha stood up and pushed the stool backward, wincing as the metal scratched against the tile floor. "I'll be right back." Clint looked at her as soon as she stood up and she nodded. He would be alright.

Steve watched and then turned his back to everyone else, facing the grill. "Clint, how many pancakes do you want?" He called over his shoulder, not turning to look at the archer. Clint was looking around lazily, casually looking at everyone's mouths to see if they were talking. Steve had his back turned, but Bruce was suddenly looking at him. Clint looked back and saw his own name being formed on the doctor's lips.

"Hmm?" Clint mumbled, surprised at being called so quickly. The lip reading had to come in play here.

Watching Bruce's lips carefully as the doctor spoke normally, Clint caught a few words: _Steve...ask...you…question_. It was enough for Clint to piece together the sentence. _Steve asked you a question._ Lip reading was more a game of chance that it was anything else. It took skill and practice to see the words on the mouth and string them all together as the speaker talked.

Clint nodded and turned his head to look at Steve. "Sorry, Cap didn't hear you. What was that?" Clint crossed his fingers under the table and gave a small sigh of relief as Steve turned around and looked at Clint to ask his question again. Clint watched carefully and caught the words easier this time.

 _How many...pancakes...want...one...two._

 _How many pancakes do I want, one or two?_ Was the sentence Clint translated in his head.

He held up three fingers and flashed the captain a smile. "Three. It's been a long day." Steve nodded and turned his back again, focusing on the cooking pancakes in front of him.

When Natasha walked back into the room, Steve put two steaming plates of food in front of the duo, the smell of good home-cooked food made Clint want to drool. As soon as the plate was in front of him, Natasha thanked Steve but Clint dug in, using his fork to inhale his food.

"Someone's hungry," Steve commented but Clint kept his head down, focused on the food, missing the comment. Steve raised his eyebrow and Natasha just smiled and shook her head. Steve understood it and laughed, even though he didn't understand it at all.

Steve finished cooking food and made a final stack of pancakes almost as tall as him for Thor, and the last plate for himself. Bruce excused himself and dropped his dishes in the sink, before retreating off to the lab, working on some experiment. The remaining Avengers ate in silence, while Clint looked up almost constantly, watching everyone's mouths to see if they were talking.

Suddenly, Clint felt the counter vibrate and jumped slightly, looking up to see Thor walking away, the massive amount of pancakes he had eaten tucked inside his massive body. His plate had been stacked on top of Bruce's in the sink. The sudden standing up of the god of thunder had made Clint knock his fork off his plate and it clattered to the ground. Too lazy to go get another one, Clint decided that the five-second rule was, in fact, good for silverware too, so he bent over in his chair and reached down to get it.

As he sat back up, Natasha tapped his shoulder and Clint jerked, his body going rigid with tension and his hand gripping the fork turned white around the knuckles. His eyes looked around wildly, trying to find the attacker. He failed to do so, only to find Natasha looking at him with her hands up in front of her face, showing she meant no threat.

They held eyes for a minute, while Natasha kept her one hand up while the other dropped below the counter, out of everyone else's sight except for Clint, who followed it with his eyes. Slowly, Natasha's hand opened and shut-tight in a fist and out flat, matching her breaths. Clint watched her fist and matched in with his own, timing his breaths with his fist. After a few rounds of that, Clint calmed down and exhaled deeply, taking his eyes off Natasha. Steve was staring at the two assassins with his eyebrows raised, confused by the situation.

Clint looked up and saw it, and gave his regular cocky smile. "We're good." Steve nodded but didn't look convinced, and turned back to sit down to eat his breakfast. Clint and Natasha looked at each other, but Natasha smiled at him. She made sure he was looking at her and her mouth.

"I'm going to go back up, you coming?" She, just the right speed so it wasn't exaggerated, but it wasn't too fast for Clint to read.

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm going to finish up here. I'll be up in a few." Natasha nodded and took her plate to the sink, then thanked the captain for the breakfast. The remaining Avengers eat their breakfast in silence, before Clint stood up with an empty plate, dropping it in the sink before stopping to make a pit stop in the bathroom.

When he came out, he walked down the empty hallway, heading out towards the elevator. Jogging out of the kitchen, Steve called out Clint as he walked up behind him.

"Barton! Hey, man are you alright? What was-" Steve stopped his sentence when Clint didn't turn around or even make any notice that Steve was there. Steve jogged up a little farther and clapped his hand on Clint's shoulder.

"Hey, what are-" Steve could barely get out his sentence before he felt Clint tense under his hand and suddenly Clint whipped around, grabbed Steve's arm, and pulled him forward. A quick twist and a pull and Steve was on one knee, his arm shoved up his back with Clint standing over him, eyes wild, just like during breakfast.

"Barton, man, what are you doing?" Steve groaned, pain shooting up his arm. He was held there for a minute or so while Barton grabbed his bearings, making sure everything was alright and no one was there attacking him. Slowly, Clint dropped Steve's arm and stepped back a little, just enough to let the captain stand up. Steve turned around to face Clint, mouth open to say something but Clint held his hand up and cut him off.

"Look, Cap, before you say anything, let me explain. I can't hear you right now. A while back Nat and I were on a rescue op, and it went bad, and I lost my hearing in an explosion. I've been wearing hearing aids for this whole time, but I just broke my last pair, and I need Tony to make a new set for me, but he's not back till later, so if you'r going to talk, you need to look at me so I can read your lips." Clint said in a big burst, surprising the captain.

Steve stood there for a second after Clint finished so they stood there in silence, and Clint scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Steve said and Clint stared at his mouth, pausing a second before answering to understand the question.

"It wasn't the right time. I didn't want…," Clint sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I didn't want to be treated differently because I'm not normal," he said in one last breath, exhaling afterward. Telling how he really felt about things was not easy for him. Steve opened his mouth to object, but shut it and nodded.

"I understand. Was this before New York?" He asked, and Clint nodded. "Ah, ok. I understand what you mean Clint, but I still wished you would've told me. We could've worked this out." Clint couldn't hear his voice but he could tell Steve was disappointed.

"I know man, and I'm sorry." Clint apologized and Steve hit him with another question.

"But what's with the attacking? And during breakfast with Romanoff…?" Clint gave a small smile and chuckled sheepishly.

"Yeah… that. Uh, well, being a super assassin who relies on his senses for his job, suddenly can't hear anything, not a good mix. Someone coming up behind me that I can't tell is either a friendly or not, so my instinct is not, it's kind of like a fight or flight reflex," He paused. "Well, fight or fight, really."

Steve chuckled and made sure Clint saw him this time as he rested his hand on archer'scher shoulder. "You're a good man, Clint. And you're still our archer, with or without your hearing."

Clint held out his fist and Steve bumped it, before the two of them walked their way down the hall.


	11. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Bruce

**I know, I'm taking a long time to post updates, but blame school. The amount of workload I have is unrealistic. I'm am trying to post as often as possible, I promise I did not forget you guys! Eventually, there will be a vacation and I will get a crapload of it down. You guys are the best!**

 **REVIEWS!**

 **KaijuBoy455: I would love to do that! Just as soon as I finish this story ;)**

 **Alrighty guys, enjoy!**

* * *

Wednesday

* * *

" _Are you sure you going to be ok?"_ Natasha signed, dressed not in her Black Widow suit or in the lounge around sweats. She was dressed in decent civilians clothes, a plain red t-shirt with a borrowed zip-up hoodie over it. Jeans with converse pulled it all together, with enough pockets that she didn't need a purse.

Clint waved her off. " _I'll be fine. I can handle myself, you know. I am a master assassin,"_ he signed with his eyebrow cocked up. Natasha smiled briefly and nodded. " _Besides,"_ he signed, " _You're still wearing my hoodie. Are you ever gonna give it back?"_

Natasha smiled but didn't answer, turning on a heel and stalking out of Clint's room and out the door, down the elevator to get to the busy streets of New York City. Clint paced around his room, mumbling to himself. Only he couldn't hear it, so he didn't know how loud he actually was. For all, he knew he was screaming his words. He wanted to scream the words, just so he could feel _something_.

 _I can handle this. I am a master assassin. I'll be fine. I am not stupid. I am not broken._

He walked out of his room, hands dug into the pockets of his sweatpants, signing that to himself over and over again. His head was down until he got a flash of blue in his eyes and he looked up just in time to avoid running into Cap.

"Sorry, Rogers, didn't see you," Clint said, his voice a little louder than regular speaking tones, but if Steve noticed Clint couldn't tell. Steve shook his head and smiled, and pronouncing his words slowly and clearly, so Clint can understand. But Clint was just annoyed. _I am not stupid._

 _Sorry...my fault…where is Natasha?_

Clint almost scowled but held it back. _I am not broken._ "Steve. I've told you. Talk normal, I can understand you. And she's not here, she does have a regular life you know. I don't follow her around like a sick puppy every day of my life," Clint frowned and crossed his arms. Steve held his hands up in surrender.

 _Sorry… know… not stupid… trying…_

Clint nodded, slightly less angry. He let Steve finish, who finished talking at a regular pace, and Clint relaxed.

"Watch out, Bruce is running some test in the lab today," was the final sentence Clint caught before Steve clapped him on the shoulder and walked off. Clint continued his own way, his hands fidgeted in his pockets. He was itching for something to do. Something he could move around, play with. He could go watch a game on the tv, Stark had hooked up the set with almost every channel in the world. If he wanted to he could go watch some soap opera found in Indonesia or something. But that meant reading the captions while watching the show. Not really his idea of moving right now.

He could play some video games. Tony had a couple game stations, but Clint had bought all the video games. Natasha and Steve both had a few suggestions, but the majority were Clint's decision. Playing video games helped him, sometimes. It challenged his hands and his head and gave him control. Control was the biggest factor for him with coping. Loki's mind tricks took away all control, and that was something Clint didn't want to lose ever again. To be stuck in your own body while it moved not by your commands? It was terrifying. Playing video games helped. He had the controller, the character was moving by his will, and it relaxed him. Video games were a big part of Clint, whether he always like to admit it or not.

But today was not the day for video games. Maybe tomorrow. He needed to shoot something. And preferably not a person. He remembered that Tony had told him about some new arrows he had been messing with in the lab. It'd be cool to go check those out.

Set on a new mission, Clint swung around the corner and stepped into the elevator, pushing the button for three floors up. As he rode up silently, Clint wondered what song Tony was playing today. Listening to a few of Starks song choices before, Clint decided the man wasn't completely tone-deaf. There were a few good songs that Clint approved of, but a few.

Clint glanced at the ceiling of the elevator, where he knew the speaker for Stark's programmed AI was.

"What song is this, JARVIS?" Clint asked, voice a little scratchy in his throat.

JARVIS was highly adaptable, and it proved to work out in this situation. On the wall of the elevator car a screen appeared, JARVIS's words projected so Clint could read them. Along with his words various statistics popped out on the screen: the weather forecast for today and the rest of the week, a small calendar of big events coming up soon, and energy levels for the tower itself. Of course, every chance it got, the Stark logo flashed across the screen, showing off Tony's enormous ego.

Ignoring Tony Stark's inflated image of himself, Clint read the AI's words, saying that it was Hotel California by The Eagles. One of his favorite songs.

"Thanks, JARVIS," Clint said and swiped down on the screen, making it disappear. As the elevator finished its ascent, Clint hummed along to the rhythm, while in real time his humming and the real song were completely off beat.

The elevator slowed to a stop and dinged, which of course he couldn't hear, and the doors slid open. The entire floor was a lab encased by glass, revealing the entire inside. He pushed open the heavy glass doors and the hissed shut behind him.

Dr. Bruce Banner was hunched over a table, back turned toward the door. Clint thought he was so focused on his work, he didn't even notice Clint come in. That was alright, he would only be in there for a minute, to check and grab the arrows, then go.

In reality, both men said spoke at the same time, but fell on deaf ears for both parties.

Clint would've heard Bruce's warning that he was running extremely loud experiments, trying to create a miniature and slightly suppressed version of the sonic boom. He threw his arm back to vaguely wave at the pair of soundproofing headphones resting on the counter as he said to put them on in case of a boom erupting.

If Bruce hadn't been wearing an identical pair of the headphones that were on the counter, preventing him from hearing almost everything, he would've heard Clint say he was just coming in to grab some arrows.

Clint found the papers and the designs on the table on the other side of the doorway, not too far but not too close to Bruce. He flipped through the stapled notes, reading Tony's sloppy handwriting and looking at the drawings. In theory, Stark has brought Clint's designs to life pretty well. Clint had talked to Stark about some ideas he had for an arrow, and Tony said he would get to work on them right away. The arrows were held up in a glass case behind the work table, sleek and black like his others. He whistled in admiration, picking one up gently and running his hands over it.

Meanwhile, Bruce was making some final calculations, before punching them into the equation. Mumbling under his breath about various hazards and working with the equipment, Bruce made sure everything was in place for the experiment.

"Here we go," He said to himself and to the benefit to anyone in the room that was listening. He flipped open a case and pressed a button, which was attached to a thick flexible plastic box. Inside was the mechanism that would release the exact amount of each variable to create a simulation of the sonic boom. As soon as the button was pushed, Bruce watched in awe as all of the components fell into place and the experiment resulted in a sonic boom.

The invisible sound waves ripped through the lab, the plastic barrier of the experiment absorbed the vibrations, but the boom was almost loud enough to wake the dead.

Bruce covered his ears over the headphone enough thought that did little to help. As soon as it hit, Clint glanced up, his limited hearing that was left over from the original explosion recognizing the boom. He may be Deaf, but nothing could hide a sonic boom. He shrugged it off, however, and turned back done to finish up the notes.

Bruce turned around to make some more notes on a different piece of paper when Clint caught his eye, and Bruce almost dropped his pen as he stared at the archer, open-mouthed.

"Barton? What the-" Bruce slid the headphones off his ears and stalked across the lab floor, nearly yelling.

Clint's back stayed turn as Bruce continued to yell at him, which confused the scientist even more. He was oblivious to the fact that Bruce was at his back, getting more and more frustrated by the fact that Clint wasn't answering him. Still working on his own time, Clint gathered all the notes together and put them back in the place where they were and grabbed the arrows, turning around to Banner in his face.

"Clint, I asked you, what were you thinking?" Clint struggled to keep up reading Bruce's speeding lips and held his hands up in the air, arrows hanging loosely in his grip.

"Wow, Bruce, what's going on?" Clint asked, glancing quickly at the setup Bruce had going on, suddenly the idea dawning on him. He gestured awkwardly towards them.

"Was… was I supposed to do something? For your experiment?" Clint asked, rubbing the back of his neck when Bruce's mouth stopped moving.

Bruce opened his mouth slightly, like he was about to say something, but shut it right after it opened. He tilted his head and watched Clint for a minute before a tiny smile crossed his face.

"You can't hear me, can you?" Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest. Clint's eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable, but pressed his lips together and nodded.

"How did you-" Clint started to ask, but Bruce put up his hands, and cut Clint off.

" _Barton, I'm a doctor. I'm trained to notice things like this,"_ Bruce said, in nearly perfect ASL. Clint opened his mouth to ask another question but Bruce answered it before Clint could even get a word out.

" _And yes, I know ASL. What kind of doctor am I if I can't effectively communicate with my patients?"_

Clint smiled like he was hiding a secret and Bruce looked back. " _How did this_ ," Bruce said, waving his hand towards Clint, " _happen?"_

" _Mission. Nat and I got caught in an explosion. Lost my hearing there, little over 80%, I think."_ He signed and Bruce nodded, switching directly into doctor mode.

" _Was that the only thing? Any other symptoms?"_

Clint laughed, loud and sharp. " _Doc, I'm a professional assassin. I always have something wrong with me. Broken leg, dislocated shoulder, concussion, everything. There's nothing I_ haven't _hurt."_

" _Then what's with you not hearing today? I assume you had hearing aids?"_

Clint shrugged sheepishly, holding the arrows loosely and tapping them against his thigh. " _They broke last mission. They were my backup. Waiting for Stark to get back in town to help with new ones."_

" _Do they help at all?"_ Bruce asked, curious. Unconsciously, Clint ran his fingers over his right ear where the most damage was done, feeling for his hearing aid that wasn't there.

" _Yeah, certain pitches or just some extremely loud noises. It helps me with surroundings and to be aware of some things around me. They help, but I still can't hear."_

The two men fell into a lapse of silence as they took in what each other signed. Now another person knew about Clint, and he only had to go through one more day before Tony came home. Thor was also the last person not to know. That was going to be fun to explain to the god of thunder.

After continued silence, Clint excused himself and took his arrows, leaving Bruce to his experiment in the lab as he went down the elevator to the main rec floor. He grabbed a bow as an old song played in his head, the words matching with the guitar and drums and walked to the shooting range. Tony had built Clint his very own range, with specialized targets and various modes. Clint glanced down at the special arrows he held in his hand and back at the target, before placing them on the wall, where the other arrows were held. He would try out those arrows later. Right now, he just needed some regular shooting.

Clint grabbed six sleek, black arrows and dropped them in his quiver he strapped to his back and straddled the shooting line, his side facing the target. Taking a deep breath, he tabled his bow and nocked the arrow to the drawstring, bringing up the bow and pulling the string back until it was at the corner of his mouth. He held it there, easily, taking deep breaths until he gently released the string with an exhale, the arrows flying through the room and hitting dead center on the target across the room. It perfect execution, he did the same with the other five arrows, all of them crowding the bulls-eye until the final arrow hit the first arrow, slicing through the shaft and cutting it in two like it was butter.

Satisfied and slightly annoyed by his broken arrow, Clint Barton went over the routine over and over again, his permanently calloused hands not feeling any of the effects of the bowstring, and the few faint bruises stretching across his forearm the string slapped his skin. He shot arrow after arrow, well through the day and into the night, letting his arms do the work while his mind worked out everything life had in store for him.


	12. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Thor

**So I wanted this one to be a little funnier, so here it is! I hope you guys enjoy!**

 **KaijuBoy455: Yep here you go! Not super big but when this story finishes I'll make them have a bigger role!**

 **Enjoy guys, and please review those are the best!**

* * *

 _ **Thursday**_

* * *

After a long night of shooting down in the range, sometime in the early morning of the next day, Natasha found Clint half-asleep slumped up against the wall. She helped him up and dragged him to his room, dropping him in his bed, where he slept soundly.

Clint didn't wake up until it was late in the afternoon, feeling refreshed and tired at the same time. He looked down at the clothes he wore the day before and to bed, and picked the collar of his shirt to smell it. He shrugged, it didn't smell that bad. One more day wouldn't kill anybody. Well, maybe it would, but frankly, Clint didn't care. He was tired. Clint picked at the fresh bandage someone had put over his arm, the healing wound still hurting. It was probably Natasha. She was more than he could ever ask for, she was his angel in disguise. And in some ways, he guessed he was her angel too.

He rolled out of bed and debated on what he was going to do for that day. He didn't want to bother Natasha, she had a nice day running around, but it was doing errands. The woman needed some time to herself as well.

So Clint took the first option from yesterday and decided to go play some video games. Natasha was having some time to herself, and Bruce locked himself in the lab overnight, working on some new projects of his. Steve was off doing, well, Clint didn't know what Steve was doing. Last he saw the Captain, he was huddled together with Nat and Bruce, talking. Clint hadn't bothered walking over and joining the conversation. If it had been something he needed to know, Steve would have talked to him as well. And nobody knew where Thor was, the god was probably off causing trouble in some far off universe.

With everyone else gone or occupied, Clint wandered down the main rec floor and flopped down onto the massive couch Tony had bought. The remote controller in his hand, he kicked his feet up onto the couch and rested his head against a pillow, turning on the tv and the Xbox station at the same time. The even bigger TV screen lit up the room, mixing with the afternoon sun streaming through the widows.

The game he had played last time was still loaded in, so he just decided to stick with that one. The title screen for Call of Duty flashed across the screen, and Clint settled in with a smile. The smile quickly faded, however, when the title screen was replaced by the next screen which displayed two options: single player or online multiplayer. He frowned as he glanced at the headphones with the microphone on the table not far at all from the couch.

Normally, Clint would play online, connecting with a few old friends or just playing with strangers online, working together and talking as if they were a real team while they were fighting the enemies. It was kind of hard to hear your teammates talking over a headset when you couldn't hear at all. Slightly frustrated, Clint thumbed the controller and pressed the single player option, and decided to do story mode. He didn't remember exactly where he had left off last, bit it was somewhere in the Russian forest during winter. A warning popped up on his screen before the game could load, asking him what difficulty he wanted to play at Recruit, Regular, Hardened, Veteran. Each of the levels had three stars next to them, showing off that he had completed the story at each of the levels with the maximum amount of points. At this time, he had played it s many times, he knew where each target was and exactly when to shoot.

Soon Clint fell into the steady rhythm of the game, his fingers moving like they had a mind of their own, lazily watching the screen while his hands did all the work. He almost wished he could hear the music softly playing in the background, or had his own headphones to work with. But sometimes the silence was nice as well.

Suddenly a flash of red caught the corner of his eye, and he paused his game to turn and look out of the window of the Stark Tower. There was nothing there until another flash of red came swinging by, and it looked somewhat like a man.

The red swung by a final time, but this time stopped at the window, feet and hands splayed across the glass sticking him in his place. Not a just a man. Spider-Man. Peter Parker wasn't even so much a man, he was just a boy, a high schooler. Clint sometimes wondered how they let a high schooler join a fight that scarred adults, but at the same time, the kid had guts. He and been in a few battles with the Spider-Man before, and besides the talking, you couldn't always tell that it was a boy fighting a man's war.

Clint smiled and sat up a little straighter so Spider-Man could see him and Clint waved. Spider-Man unstuck one of his hands and waved back, pulling off his mask for a minute and smiled lazily back. His three other limbs continued to stick him to the glass of the high floor of the Stark building and his other ran a gloved hand through sweaty brown hair. He had been gone all afternoon, swinging around Manhattan, looking for some trouble to step in between. Peter had one of those smiles that lit up the entire room, contagious to even the grumpiest of people. His eyes always matched that smiling, creating this bright and happy kid that always brightened the mood of the Avengers when they were having a bad day.

Peter waved his hand towards himself, motioning Clint to come towards the window, smiling eagerly before putting his mask back over the top half his face, exposing the bottom half, his mouth. As soon as Clint grumbled and got over to the window, Peter held out his hand flat, like a table, two little figures dropped down into the palm of his hand. Clint watched and saw Peter's lips move through the window, saying something along the lines of _say hello._ Pressing his hand against the glass to block some of the sunlight glare and say two tiny people in the red glove. Their tiny arms were waving up in the air, and Clint saw immediately who they were. Scott and Hope were dressed in their Ant-Man and Wasp suit, flying around helping Spider-Man do his daily rounds. Clint grinned and waved back before a thump vibrating through the floor caught his attention and he whirled around.

Thor was standing in the middle of the rec room, appeared out of nowhere. Chunks of plaster and drywall clung to bits of his clothes, and Clint tried not to think about where that might've come from.

"Barton! How are you today? Why is the Spider on the outside of the window?" Thor boomed, his common English getting a lot better than it used to be. Before it was full of 'ye' and 'thou' and even just proper English that nobody used before. Everyone had been helping him out with that, and it had been getting a lot better.

Just as Clint finished processing what Thor had said and was about to answer when the elevator doors slid open, revealing another person. It was so quiet for the beginning of the week, why was everyone showing up now? The elevator dinged, only Clint couldn't hear it.

Another man clad in dark red and black entered the floor, mask covering his face.

"Spidey-poo's outside because he's a big hero and I'm so proud of him!" Deadpool clasped his hands together and pressed them against his cheek, in the motion if he had eyelashes, they would be blinking like crazy.

Deadpool patted Thor's arm as he skipped past. "It's ok, Chris. You'll learn." Thor looked at him confused as Deadpool skipped to the window and blew Spidey a kiss through the window. Peter frowned, his mouth showing all the emotion since his face was covered.

"Who is Chris?" Clint caught Thor's question as it left his lips and shrugged. He couldn't understand what Deadpool was saying when the mask was over his face.

Deadpool stopped skipping as he came to in front of Clint and cocked his head to the side, staring at the archer quizzically while the mask displayed only some of his emotion. Clint saw slight movement around the mouth area of Deadpool's mask, but he didn't understand.

"Wait, Wade, say that again?" Clint didn't want to say he couldn't hear him yet, but Deadpool was one step ahead.

"Sorry, Clinton, I forgot you can't hear me. Sorry about that. Quick question, do you have any chimichangas?" Wade pulled up the bottom half of his mask just like Spidey and spoke and signed at the same time.

Clint was shocked, confused and, relieved? He was feeling a lot of different emotions and he didn't know what to feel about it.

Wade's mouth turned into a smile and he continued. "You'll get used to it. I'll see you guys later! Toodles!"

With that Deadpool drew his two guns and sprinted towards the window, shooting the glass and jumping out of Stark tower, whooping as he fell down. Spider-Man rolled his eyes as he fell, and Thor and Clint stared open mouthed, from the whole ordeal that had just happened.


	13. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Tony

**Wow, guys look! Another chapter! I'm surprising myself. Anyway, I don't have much to say, other than you guys have been great and I love the attention this story is getting it makes me so happy!**

 **REVIEWS!**

 **KaijuBoy455: Uh, yeah that would be awesome! I will definitely do that as soon as these other ones finish!**

 **Alrighty, guys, I hope you enjoy and please review those are the absolute best! I love you all!**

* * *

 _ **Friday**_

* * *

It had been a long and exhausting week. Clint woke up Friday morning wanting nothing more in life than to pull the covers over his head and fall back asleep for at least another 24 hours. But not, Natasha was standing at the side of his bed, ripping the sheets off him, forcing Clint to pay attention.

" _Stark will be here soon. You need to get ready,"_ Natasha signed to him, ignoring the fact that Clint's 'pj's' were just his boxers. As partners-and maybe something more-she had seen more of him than most people had. It was probably best that way because even she was slightly scared of some of the things she knew about him. He was an assassin after all, and assassins didn't have happy families and warm memories of their pasts.

Clint groaned and rubbed his face and over the bandaged area on his arm, fighting back a yawn while he tried to look awake.

" _Ok, ok, I'm moving,"_ He signed as Natasha gripped his shoulders and hauled him out of bed, pushing him in the direction of his bathroom. He didn't even remember getting back up to his room. After everything had happened in the rec room the day before, he remembered Thor asking him about being Deaf, and having to explain the concept to the Asgardian. Then things had quieted down and he sat back down to play the video game he had started. Later Natasha had sat down and joined him, stretching out and using his lap as a pillow. They had played for hours, occasionally joined by others, who would skip out after a little while. That was all he remembered. Natasha must've helped him up to his room.

As Clint rubbed his eyes and threw open his drawers to look for some decent clothes, Natasha barely cocked her head to the side, and instantly Clint knew that JARVIS was talking. He glanced at the wall of his room where the AI had projected his words to a screen and read them quickly. Tony was back from his trip and in the tower.

"Nat," Clint used his voice to grab the redhead's attention and started signing the rest of his question. " _I'm going to take a shower. Tell Tony I need to see him?"_ Natasha nodded and walked out of his room, shutting the door behind her. Clint groaned for the umpteenth time that morning and shuffled into his bathroom, clothes, and towel in hand. Quickly he dropped his clothes and jumped in the shower, letting the steaming water run over his achy body. The cut on the inside of his hand was still an ugly red around the edges but had started to scab over and heal in the middle. He started to pick at it with the water, before Natasha's warning of taking away his bow for a week if he picked off the scab popped back into his head, and he stopped.

He turned around in the shower, letting the water hit his face first, helping to wake him up as the scalding water warmed his skin. He could stand there for hours. It almost felt like he did, by the time he unwilling told himself to get out of the shower, it was well in the morning. _Oh well_ , he thought to himself. He went to put on his clothes, when he realized in his half-awakened, he only grabbed a shirt. Shrugging, he wrapped a towel around his waist and slung his shirt over his shoulder, striding out of the bathroom into his own room.

He held his towel up with one hand while the other opened up a cabinet drawer, searching for a clean pair of underwear. While his back was turned to the door, an unsuspected Tony Stark waltzed into Clint's room, already talking a mile a minute.

"Alrighty, Romanoff told me you needed to talk so what is it-?" Stark asked before he laid eyes on Clint Barton, the only thing covering his body being a tan towel. Immediately Tony's eyes dropped to the floor and he used his hand to cover any other part.

"God, Feathers, why didn't you say you were naked? I knocked like five times, you could've said something!" Tony shouted, and stood there slightly surprised when Clint still didn't answer him.

Then, satisfied with the pair of underwear he had found, Clint turned back around only to see Tony in his room! Clint let out a very non-manly shriek and started yelling the same as Tony.

"Stark! What the frig-what are you doing here?" Clint yelled as he dashed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, so Tony could look up and not be scarred for life.

"I told you already. Romanoff told me you needed to talk, so I knocked, but no one answered, so I walked in and saw, well, that!"

Clint walked out of the bathroom in a pair of real shorts, only missing a shirt. Tony got a good chance to look at the defined muscles and various scars littering the archer's body. It was more than Tony expected. But then he couldn't see anymore when Clint threw on the shirt he had been carrying around earlier.

"So what did you want to talk about?" Tony asked, but Clint still was not facing the billionaire, so he couldn't 'hear' him.

"Barton! Why aren't you answering me?!" Tony yelled, starting to really get frustrated. First Clint didn't answer, didn't hear him come in, was oblivious to the fact that Tony was in his room while he was changing, and was still ignoring him.

Clint turned around right when Tony had finished his sentence, only catching ' _me_ '.

"Hmm?" Clint asked in the form of the question and Tony looked like he was about to lose his head.

"What. Did. You. Want. To. Talk. About?" He practically screamed, and but Clint couldn't tell a difference.

Clint smiled and Tony scowled even deeper. "That. I wanted to talk about this."

Tony wanted to pull his hair out. "What is _this_?"

Clint almost laughed, but he didn't, considering the alarming color of red Tony's face was turning. "I can't hear you."

"Well, of course, you can't freaking hear me you've been ignoring me for the last ten minutes!"

Clint shook his head. "No, I mean I can't hear _at all._ "

Tony opened his mouth to say something but took a double take as he let the words sink in and shut it just as quickly. "You mean…"

Clint nodded. "Yeah. Happened in a mission a while back. Almost completely deaf. Been using hearing aids ever since, basically invisible ones, but they have been helping. Last mission though, my last pair broke. I've been a week without them, and now the rest of the team knows too. You were the last one."

"Ok. That's what you needed to tell me?" Tony asked, and Clint shook his head.

"No, I need your help making some new hearing aids."

Tony nodded. "No problem, that I can do." Tony turned to leave but Clint's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"And Tony… make them noticeable."


	14. Speak Up, I Can't Hear You: Clint

**Hey guys, guess what! Last chapter! Whoo Hoo! This multiple part one-shot (I don't know what to call it...) has been so much fun especially for me. I am an ASL 2 student and I am so interested in sign language, and Deaf culture in itself. I was trying to be as accurate as possible in this story from my knowledge of ASL and the help of the wonderful internet as I wrote certain parts of this story, and I'm hoping it was as close as it could be! I enjoyed writing this one, and I hoped you guys enjoyed reading it!**

 **So here is the final chapter for Speak Up, I Can't Hear You, and I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Friday**_

* * *

Clint sat uncomfortably in the stool in Tony's lab, foot bouncing impatiently as his hand tapped his knee in an upbeat rhythm. Tony had stepped out a few minutes ago from working on Clint's new hearing aids when Cap had called him down. Clint sat on the stool only a minute after that, impatient enough to go do something else. He had been sitting there for almost an hour and a half while Tony talked to himself while he worked.

Clint had given Tony his old and broken ones as an example, and Tony had JARVIS looking up more instructions on the insides and functions of hearing aids. Clint had watched fascinated for the first little while, watching Tony's gears turning as he examined all of the parts and pieces. Then he had taken some measurements, and talked to Clint through it, using Jarvis's screen to project his words onto it, making it a little easier for Clint.

Then Cap had called Tony down and left Clint in the lab alone, which, quite frankly, was a dangerous move itself. Clint knew the workings of most of the equipment in Tony's lab, but there were also random buttons and switches just laying around, and he had no idea what they did.

So Clint pushed up off the stool, looking around the lab to see if anyone was there with him. When he found no one, he ignored Tony's order to stay in the lab and walked into the elevator, going down to the rec floor. The elevator slowed to a stop the floor before and Natasha hopped in, smiling at Clint like she knew something he didn't.

Clint's eyes narrowed, slightly confused. " _What are you so happy about?_ " He signed but Natasha waved him off.

" _Nothing. Are you ok?"_ She signed back and Clint was even more confused.

" _Yes? I'm just looking for Stark,"_ He said, using the sign name for the billionaire he had given him. Clint had given all the Avengers and his friends sign names, but Natasha was the only one who knew about them. Tony Stark was a fingerspelled T-S in the middle of his chest, where Tony's arc reactor would be. Natasha was an N shooting out from her wrist, like her Widow's bite, or a fingerspelled Nat. Steve's is an R for Rogers saluting, or an S held up like a shield. Thor is just a T, swinging down like a hammer. Bruce's was the sign for a doctor but with a B, and Hulk was the sign for rage followed by an H. For himself, Clint had a C pulled back as if he was shooting an arrow. Sign names were useful when he was signing to someone, and he didn't have to fingerspell their name every time. He gave most of their names himself, but some of his other deaf friends that knew about him helped make the names. It was a big joke, and it would always lead to an interesting topic.

Natasha shook her head. " _I haven't seen him. Maybe in the kitchen?"_ Clint shrugged and the elevator dinged while the door slid open, letting him out on his floor. He waved bye to Natasha and she stayed in the elevator, the door shutting between them. He sighed, still confused but walked out to the kitchen.

Tony was in there, but Bruce was, busying himself with making some food for himself. Clint walked up to the bar and sat down in the stool, facing Bruce. He opened his mouth to ask Bruce his question when he remembered the doctor knew sign language. It was kind of relieving.

" _Hey, Doc, have you seen Tony?"_ He signed and Bruce shook his head. He was pushing some vegetables around in a pan so he signed with one hand.

" _No, sorry. Maybe he's out with Thor, on the balcony,"_ Bruce suggested, gesturing to the glass door that led out to a little balcony Tony had put on that floor. " _Do you want something to drink?"_

Clint was taken aback by the sudden suggestion but he decline, thanking the doctor and walking outside to the balcony, where Thor was leaning against the railing, looking out at the big city, watching cars the size of ants crawl across the roads, tall skyscrapers like the Stark tower break through the cloud, their lights blinking slowly against the slowly setting sun. It was getting late in the afternoon, around five o'clock, and the sun was getting ready to start it's descent.

"Thor, have you seen Tony?" Clint asked, clearing his throat to get the god's attention. Thor turned around and to Clint's surprise, started signing.

" _No, but I did hear he was with Steve down in the lab."_ Thor's signing was messy and slow, but he was signing! It was a welcome surprise to Clint.

"I didn't know you knew sign, Thor," Clint said and Thor gave him a big Asgardian smile.

" _This city is really beautiful,_ " Thor signed, looking back out at the busy Manhattan scene. Clint relaxed and looked out as well. It was beautiful. Their city was the best.

" _Yes, it is. Thanks, Thor."_ Clint signed and stepped back into the cooled building of Stark Tower, still on a mission to find Tony. Thor had said the lab, so he walked back to the elevator. As soon as he was in the doors started to shut, but he saw Steve running towards him, arms waving in the arm.

" _Wait, hold it, hold it please!"_ He signed and Clint's eyes widened as he stuck his arm out in the path of the doors, keeping it open until Steve was inside with him.

" _Thank you_ ," Steve signed, grinning wildly. Clint nodded, the typical way to say 'you're welcome' and asked him the same question he had been asking everyone else.

"Where's Tony?"

" _In his lab. I'm going down there now, too."_ Clint nodded when Steve finished, still in shock that everyone was signing to him. It was just the days before that he had told the rest of the team that he was deaf, but here was everyone was signing to him. The rest of the short ride was silent. Clint was getting sick of these elevators. It was always up and down and up and down, wherever you wanted to go.

But pushing aside his dislike of the elevator, the doors opened to Tony's lab, and Tony, who was leaning over a lab table, working on his hearing aids.

"Where were you, Stark? I've been looking all over for you," Clint called out and Tony just turned around to smile at him. Everyone had been smiling at him. What was going on?

" _I've almost finished you're hearing aids, but they've got something to say first,"_ Tony signed, surprising Clint once again before he pointed to the side where Natasha popped out, followed by Bruce and Thor. Steve and Tony filled in on the sides, all of them facing Clint. Clint's mouth dropped out and he sat down on the stool and followed Natasha as she started signing.

" _When the rest of the team found out you were deaf, they wanted to do something. I've been teaching them small phrases and certain things to say, and when Tony left, I knew you'd get up and try to find him. So we all were around leading you to him, but talking to you without it really being a struggle. Tony just finished up you're hearing aids, and we wanted to let you know that you will always be Hawkeye, our archer, no matter what,"_ Natasha smiled. " _And, they are all learning sign language as well, so if this happens again, you won't have to work as hard."_

Clint sighed and gave a huge genuine smile. If he wasn't a master assassin, hardened after years of killing, he probably would've cried. But even that didn't stop him from grinning from ear to ear.

" _Thanks, guys, that really means a lot to me,"_ was all he could think of. He wanted to, needed to, say something that really expressed how he felt, but that couldn't be put to words or signs.

Then Tony scooped a finished product off the table and handed them to Clint, his new hearing aids. He had asked to make them noticeable, and they certainly were. His old one was practically invisible and was planted in his ear canal, so nobody could see it.

These were hooked around his ear, with the tube sneaking inside. Not only that, but they were not the tan or silver color hearing aids normally were. They were a dark purple color, standing out against his dark blonde hair immensely.

"I like them," he said as he took them from Tony, sliding them over one for each of his ears, messing around with the dials. All he heard was static for a minute before he finished adjusting and the sounds he had been missing came back. He would have been classified as severe hearing loss, over 80% of his hearing was gone. But he wasn't completely deaf. With the hearing aids turned up, it was gravely and not normal, but he heard people and noises. If he turned it u, even more, the little shred of hearing he had held on to after the explosion, he could even hear a little better than the others. That only happened on a few occasions, but Clint was just thankful for the new hearing aids.

"I'm glad you like them, feathers," Tony said, slipping back into his talking voice. "They were expensive. I had to make them with some shipped parts, and I had to make them Barton-proof. That was the hardest part."

Clint chuckled. "Shut up, Stark, like these little things could put a dent in your paycheck."

The group laughed and life resumed as if nothing happened. In reality, nothing really did happen. Just a week where a teammate couldn't hear, but that didn't stop him from doing anything. Being deaf didn't stop Clint at all. He could do everything they could all do, except for hear. It didn't make him any less of a man, and more importantly, an Avenger.

 _I can handle this. I am a master assassin. I'll be fine. I am not stupid. I am not broken._

Clint repeated his mantra again, but this time?

He really believed it.

* * *

 **Whoo! Awesome. Alrighty, the next chapters I have a few plans for those, dealing with Spider-Man and some friends (don't worry,** **KaijuBoy455, you're suggestions are coming up next !) But after that, I wanted to give you a sneak peek of what is going to be coming soon!**

 **Civil War all over again! The Avengers are locked in a tough battle against each other, but is all really as it seems?**

 _ **and**_

 **The Winter Soldier never really left Bucky's mind. What are the things the former assassin tells Bucky as life continues normally at Stark tower?**

 **I get it, it's kind of vague, but I can't really say much without giving the main part away, but they will be exciting, I promise. If you guys have anything you want me to do, review and I will gladly look at it!**

 **I hope you guys have an awesome day and I will be back soon!**


	15. Watching the Sunset

**Hey guys, well this chapter was actually a lot longer than I originally thought but I'm pretty happy with it. This one-shot is for** **KaijuBoy455, so here ya go bud. I changed the setting a little bit, so they are not in New York anymore, because the best place to get pizza is obviously Chicago... but of course I'm biased because Chicago is my hometown, and the food is some of the best things there. Anyway...**

 **Also, just if anyone is interested, I listened to "Castle On The Hill" by Ed Sheeran while writing this story. I don't know if I'm going to do this often, put the music that I wrote to here, but maybe I will, I haven't decided. I just really like this song, and it was a lot of fun. (Disclaimer: I own nothing)**

 **REVIEWS!**

 **Sharkisha the 3r: That's fine, I'd do the same thing ;). You're review was so sweet I was so happy when I read it you have no idea how much reviews like that mean to me, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it so much, I hope you enjoy what's yet to come.**

 **Alrighty, here we go,** **KaijuBoy455 this is for you, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore," Spider-Man said to himself as he shot another web from his wrist and latched onto a tall skyscraper, propelling him forward. White covered the ground and the top of buildings, snow falling from the rolling clouds of the night sky flew in his face and covered his mask. He let go of his web with one hand to wipe the white from his vision, only to spread the moisture around even more. A buzzing filled his right ear and he almost reached up to swat the annoying bug, before he remembered he was working with two bugs, or human people the size of bugs. He didn't want to swat a bug out of the sky and have it accidentally be his friend.

"Mr. Ant-Man, sir? Is that you hanging out right by my head?" Peter Parker asked over the comms, not knowing the official name he should call the hero.

Scott Lang chuckled at the attempt and answered, voice grainy over the tiny speakers. " _No kid, it's one of my buds, I'll get him to move. I'm amazed you can hear him_." Now it was Spider-Man's turn to laugh.

"One of the perks of enhanced senses, Mr. Ant, sir."

Scott rolled his eyes, and all the ants flying in the sky around him seemed to as well. " _I told you, Parker, call me Scott. That's way too formal for me._ "

"Ok, Mr. Ant- I mean Scott," Peter answered breathless, having just executed a hairpin turn around the corner of a building, swinging to the crossing street. Another buzzing sound filled Peter's ear, but this time it was from a new voice joining in on the comms.

" _Peter, who is Toto? And we're obviously not in Kansas, we're in Chicago. Did you hit your head?"_ Wanda was thoroughly confused about his first comment. She was traveling by rooftops, using her powers to throw her from building to building, almost even keeping up with Spider-Man.

" _It's a movie reference, Wanda. From the Wizard of Oz. We'll sit down and watch it when we get back, I promise."_ This one was from Hope, her little Wasp suit wings beating against the wind and the snow of the night. Peter was slightly offended.

"You haven't seen Wizard of Oz, Ms. Wanda?"

" _Just Wanda, Peter, I told you. And no, I'm sorry, being stuck in a HYDRA experiment camp didn't really give me time to watch the classics."_

"Oh, right. Sorry."

Silence fell over the four heroes as they continued to fly through the busy night; Scarlet Witch moving from rooftop to rooftop, Spider-Man swinging from buildings with his webs, Ant-Man riding on of his ant buddies, who was named BrANT, and Wasp who was flying on her own next to Ant-Man.

"Ok, it's right up ahead here. It's open all night, so it shouldn't be that busy right now."

" _I would hope soon, it's 4 o'clock in the morning."_

One by one, the Avengers dropped from their places. Peter swung down and dropped into the alley next to the building, Scott, Wanda, and Hope not far behind him. As soon as they touched the ground, Hope and Scott pressed the thumb button and they grew back to regular human size.

Scott popped off his helmet with a hiss, taking in a deep breath, his warm exhale turning white against the cold air. He glanced up and down the alley, making sure no one was there. He wanted to wear his helmet inside, to keep some shred of his identity hidden, but there wasn't a hole for his mask in the helmet, so there was no way he was getting anything inside his mouth. Besides, he was in a totally different state. And the government already knew who he was. It's not like they would come after him again.

Hope stood near Scott, following suit and removing her helmet. She was more concerned about people seeing her real self, but unknowingly she thought the same way as Scott did. They were in a different city, which was huge in itself. It's not like someone could put a name to her face.

Wanda blew on her hands and rubbed them together, before shoving them underneath her armpits in hopes to keep them warm. It was cold in the Chicago winter, around 30 degrees. Up in the air and moving, she welcomed the cool, because using her powers put a lot of strain on her body and it was refreshing. But here, it was just downright cold.

Peter shook out his limbs, starting with his arms and moving down to his legs and ankles. Slinging around was fun, but it was tough on his grip, holding his whole body up. He pulled up his mask just enough so his mouth and jaw were exposed, but nothing else. He was just a kid, he didn't want some weirdo coming in and recognizing him, especially while he was still in high school.

"Let's go in!" Peter said, pumping his fist and hopping to the entrance, his thin-soled suit protecting his feet just barely from the snow on the ground. The rest followed behind putting their feet in his prints until they pushed through the front entrance of the hole-in-the-wall pizza joint, the bell ringing above them.

The heat was relieving, even the few minutes outside they were starting to get cold. The four of them stood on the welcome mat inside with the door shut behind them, basking in front of the heater that was blowing only in that direction. A man standing behind the counter grinned, watching them amused.

When they noticed, he chuckled. "Not from around here, are ya?" Collectively the group shook their head, and he laughed even harder. "You can always tell. I'm Will, what can I do for ya?"

The Avengers started back equally amazed at Will, who was inside wearing only jeans and a black t-shirt displaying the restaurant's name, _Joe's Pizza_. They were standing outside for thirty seconds, while he was inside in a t-shirt, and no jacket was visible.

While the rest of the crew stood still basking in the warmth, Hope stepped forward and leaned forward on the counter, sighing.

"Yeah, table for four, please. We'll get back to you on food, once they decide to shut their mouths," she said holding back a laugh, before walking back and physically dragging Scott and Peter to an empty table, which they had their choice of in the completely empty restaurant.

Wanda and Hope picked the table, not all the way in the back, but far enough from the window and doors not to be easily seen. Even though it was too early, evil never sleeps. The slid into the booth, all sharing the bright red cushion, and menus held out in front of them. Will came by to ask for their drink order, and when he brought them back-two cokes, a water and a lemonade-the Avengers were ready to place their order.

"We'll have two Italian beefs, two salads, and two deep dishes, one cheese, one meat, please," Peter ordered, already knowing what he wanted and getting the choices of the other. Will didn't need to write down the order, he had been working in that business enough where he could just memorize everything.

While the food was being cooked, the Avengers leaned back into their seats, watching the slow blink of Chicago city lights. The snow reflected off street lamps, making the white seem golden against the dark sky. It was breathtaking.

"Imagine living like this," Wanda breathed, truly amazed at the sight. It wasn't completely different from her town, except this was much, much bigger, and more modern. She couldn't start to imagine what it would be like during the day when the crowds were out and the city was lively.

They fell back into a lapse of silence, before steaming hot food was brought out and placed in front of them. Wanda and Hope got the salads, and the Italian beefs were cut in half, so each person could have part of it. The pizza was placed in the center of the table, bright red sauce and gooey cheese making mouths water.

Only a second remained from when Will finished setting food on the table and the vultures swooped in. Salads and sandwiches were temporarily forgotten as a large knife and even bigger slice server where used to cut and distribute the hot deep dish. As soon as the food hit the plates, the Avengers dug in, using their utensils, and when it got close enough, their hands to devour the pizza, before moving on to a second. If it was quiet before, it was dead silent now, beside the quiet chewing and scrap of silverware on the plate. No sooner did they get it, the pizza was gone, leaving the salad and sandwiches to be eaten. After everyone finished, they leaned back against the cushion, groaning and rubbing full stomachs. They were all in a silent agreement: that was some of the best food they had eaten in a long time. Will walked by, refilled drinks, cleared out empty plates while the Avengers relaxed.

"Sometimes it's nice to just not have to deal with anyone," Scott said, pulling his arms above his head to stretch them. Being a hero never ended, evil and crime was always around. Whether you were dealing with some high school bully who stole a bike, or an insane god fixed on global domination, there was always something to fight. Heroes got tired of fighting as well. They may be advanced or have special powers, but they were still human. Well… mostly. Some of them weren't very _human_.

"We don't get to do things like this very often. It's nice," Hope added, and everyone nodding, agreeing with her. It was a special treat being able to just sit down and enjoy being with one another while still on 'patrol'.

Suddenly, Peter sat up, slamming his hands down on the table. He winced as the hit vibrated throughout the quiet store, instantly gaining the attention of every person in the room. "Sorry," he said sheepishly and talked quieter than he had originally gone for. "I have another thing. I've been up there once before, it is amazingly cool if you guys want to check it out."

The Avengers looked at each other and shrugged. They had nowhere else to be, and there seemed to be little crime this time in the morning. _Why not_ was a general thought. Scott walked up to the counter and paid the bill, and they all left, waving goodbye to Will as they stepped out back into the cold winter night.

"Where is this place?" Hope asked as Peter grinned before he pulled his mask back down over his face entirely, rubbing his arms quickly to try to keep some of the heat from inside the restaurant.

"Just follow me," he said while webs shot out of both his arms and he launched himself into the air, laughing into the sky. Wanda shot up behind him, a smile spread wide across her face, reminding her of the kid she used to be. Before life happened and forced her to grow up.

Hope and Scott followed behind, snapping on their helmets pressing the thumb button, shrinking them down to the size of insects. Scott whistled, high and sharp, and BrANT came flying by, and Scott hopped on his back. Hope's wings unfolded and she launched into the air, followed by a small parade of ants and Scott.

Spidey led the group in the air, swinging past buildings with his legs held out in front of him, dropping used webs to fly through the air, weightless, before shooting another and swinging farther. Swinging a few blocks done, he came up to one of the tallest skyscrapers in the town. Sears Tower. A few years back it had been renamed Willis Tower, but it was still commonly referred to as Sears. He used to webs to propel himself as far up as he could and climbed the slick glass the rest of the way to the top. Before he reached the roof, he stood out on the glass, one foot and one hand is the only thing that kept him attached to the building. He looked out -not down, but instead looking at the towers that lined the sky. It had been a few hours since they had walked into the restaurant, and the sun should be rising soon.

Taking one last looked from the glass, he flipped upwards, landing on the gravel roof of the tower, followed shortly by everyone else. Peter peeled off his mask, shaking his head and running a gloved hand through his hair, before shoving it into a pocket. The icy wind bit his face, but now he welcomed the cold, having worked up a sweat swinging to get there.

"Peter, what are we doing?" Wanda asked, carefully following him as he sat on the edge of the tower, legs dangling off the edge. For a second she considered not doing it, but everyone there had a way to stop themselves if they fell, so it was alright. Hope and Scott materialized next to her, and Peter smiled, a boyish grin with his eye light up with delight.

"The sun's coming up in a minute, just watch."

So they watched, a just as he said, not much later, as the dark sky slowly started to retreat, reds and oranges taking their place as the sunrise started. Snow was still falling, and the sun reflected off the white surface, making it look like fire falling from the sky. It was breathtaking.


	16. Oh, Captain

**Whoo, well I just came back from the most amazing vacation and I took that time to write some more stories! Here is a sick!fic for a couple guys I haven't written for in a long time, based on an experience I had on said vacation. No slash, just a poor sick boy!**

 **Hope you all enjoy, and I'll be back soon with more!**

* * *

" _Oh no_ ," the blond man muttered under his breath as he flipped off the covers and sprinted to the bathroom. As soon as he hit the tile floor he leaped to the toilet and reached it just in time to hurl last night's dinner into it. He gagged and choked on the vomit, strands of his hair flipping down into his eyes and getting in the way. It seemed like it went on for an eternity, but in total it lasted less than a minute. A very painful minute, however.

Steve Rogers glanced up at the analog clock in his bathroom, essentially the only one in the entirety of Stark Tower. Stark and his technology, sometimes it was just too much for Steve. Sometimes he wished he was back in the '40s, where he knew what was going on and how everything worked. Nowadays, in the modern century, he was still trying to catch up on everything.

However, as much as he sometimes disliked the technology, modern medicine was a miracle. After he wiped his face with some nearby toilet paper and shakily stood up to the medicine cabinet that doubled as a mirror. Shifting through medicine bottle from previous illnesses or injury, he found the anti-nausea tablets and swallowed a few of those. His palms pressed against the clean white porcelain and it was cool to the touch, just what he needed. Steve leaned forward and pressed his forehead into the cold counter, just then realizing how hot he was. He groaned inwardly as he realized what had happened. Captain America had gotten sick.  
Before he could think another thought, another bout of bile crawled up his throat and he dived to the toilet, making right as it came out of his mouth. Steve bit back a groan when he finished, not

wanting to open his mouth again in case more vomit came out.

" _Well, there goes the pills,_ " Steve thought drearily and wiped his face with his hands. As he fell back on his knees, he looked down and saw some of the vomit on his clean white t-shirt. As if it could get any worse. Steve glanced at the door and wondered if he moved fast enough could grab a clean shirt and make it back to the bathroom in time. As soon as he got to his feet, his body told him that was not happening, and he leaned down for another round of vomiting. When that one finished he sunk to the floor, his knees curled up to his chest and he let his head roll to the floor. His breath came out uneven, and it could barely keep his stomach from revolting.

Steve thought back to what could have caused his sudden fit of vomiting. The flu wasn't going around, that had already hit some of the Avengers previously, and Steve was thankful to miss that. There wasn't going to be a second round of that for him, because it wasn't even season. So it was possible for him to get it, but he didn't really have many other side effects of it. His best guess? The food he ate the night before. He was looking for lunch then, and he found a packet of roast beef in the fridge. He picked it up and it smelled a little funny, but the expiration date was still a few weeks away. He nibbled at a corner and it tasted fine, so he made a sandwich and grabbed a bag of chips from Stark's pantry in the lower floor kitchen and living room. He sat on the bar and devoured the sandwich, and made another when he was still hungry.

As he thought of those sandwiches now, he sat up and threw up in the toilet again, making it clear what had happened. He had got taken down by food poison. After he finished, he made to make sure that no one else ate that roast beef.

"JARVIS?" Cap asked, and the AI's voice echoed through the bathroom

" _Yes, sir?_ "

"Tell everyone not to eat the roast beef that's in the fridge, and set a reminder for me when I finally make it out of the bathroom to throw it away."

" _Yes, sir, I will notify Mr. Stark and the rest of the team as soon as everyone wakes up_."

Steve's eyebrows furrowed together as his mind became fuzzy when he tried to remember the time. It was afternoon, right?

"What time is it JARVIS?"

" _2:15 am, sir_." There was a pause as Steve registered how early it was. " _Would you like me to notify Mr. Stark that you are ill?"_

Steve shook his head. "No, no, Tony doesn't need to be brought it, it's just some food poisoning. I'll be fine when I finish this and go to bed."

" _Yes, sir._ " A little beep signal that JARVIS left the conversation and Steve let out a shaky breath.

Steve leaned up against the toilet, trying to keep his mind on anything other than food, but it didn't seem to be working very well. He grabbed a cup from the countertop and filled it with the sink water, taking small sips to try and ease his stomach. It didn't actually help, and with the little liquid that was in his stomach just came up again in another round of vomiting.

Sighing, he stood up, and used the walls as support as he stumbled his way from the bathroom back to his room. He kept the lights off and flopped down onto his bed. His face sank into one of the pillows and he sprawled out on his stomach, hoping maybe some light pressure would do the job. His face scrunched up in pain when it actually made it worse and he leaned over the side of the bed. He grabbed the trash can that he kept by his side and threw up into that, stinking up his room along with his bathroom. He pushed up off the bed and went to move back to the bathroom, but before he could get off the bed he threw up again. The last half of it was pure dry heaving because he had nothing left in his stomach. He gasped as he tried to catch some air and ended up choking on his and he settled his breathing.

Then a knock on his door startled him into another round of vomiting, and he couldn't see the person who walked in. If it was an intruder-which it was very unlikely that it was being the extensive security measure Stark had set up around his tower-Steve would be almost helpless against them.

"J tells me you're not feeling so good, eh Cap?" Steve sighed at the sound of Tony's voice and silently cursed out the AI.

"I'm fine Stark, go back to bed. Just a little food poisoning, I'll be over it in a bit." Steve gasped out before he started dry heaving again, causing the billionaire to grimace a little bit when he glanced at the trash can full of vomit.

"I knew something smells fishy when I walked here. And I wasn't asleep in the first place, I was out in the lab." Steve cracked one eye open to look at Tony and saw that he was indeed dressed in workshop clothes, a Black Sabbath t-shirt and sweatpants, all of them covering in oil and dirt, and a pair of goggles on top of his messy brown hair. "And trust me Rogers, you do not look 'fine'" He continued using air quotes around fine.

Steve sighed and shifted in his bed. "Yes, I am. Now go away before I-" Steve couldn't finish the threat before he gave in to another round of puking, and Tony squatted down to hold the trash can closer to his head so none of it dripped on the floor.

"Before you what? Puke on my expensive carpeting I put in here for you?" Tony cracked grabbed Steve by the arms. He helped him out of bed and slipped on of the Captain's arm around his shoulders to help him walk.

"C'mon Steve, we're going to make a stop to the bathroom, get you some meds, and grab a can of sprite so you actually have something to puke up." Tony took one glanced at Steve's face, which was rapidly turning green. "And preferably not on me," he said as they passed by Steve's bathroom, Tony pushing him inside just in time for the Captain to reach the toilet.

"Holy-what did you eat yesterday? It smells horrible in here," Tony gasped, pinching his nose and waving away the air at his face. His answer was met by dry heaving, so he just let it slide.

"I'm going to go get the meds and sprite. Will you survive two minutes without me?" Tony quipped, and the underlying tone in his voice actually showed some concern.

Steve didn't answer, just slowly nodded his head as he breathed heavily over the toilet.

"Good. Hang in there buddy, I'll be back in a minute."

Steve mumbled out "Thanks, Tony" from the quick break in puking, but Tony had already left in search trying to help the sick Captain. Steve pushed away from the toilet and laid down on the floor, shutting his eyes and half wishing it would just go away and half thankful for a guy like Tony.


	17. The Spider and the Widow

**Hey guys, I haven't posted here in _forever!_ I'm sorry about that, there was another story that I really needed to finish, and I couldn't work on anything else until that was done. So it's done now, and I'm baaaaack! This next little one-shot is for ****KaijuBoy455.**

 **REVIEWS:**

 **KaijuBoy455: Thanks! Hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

Spider-Man stood in the middle of the arena, fists held out in front of him as he turned in a full circle. He could hear his frantic breaths as he scanned the floor around him, looking for his attacker. There was no one around him, but she was still there. Waiting, waiting for him to slip up and leave an open space, and she'd attack.

Suddenly, he felt his spidey-senses warning him of an attack, and he whipped around just in time to see the Black Widow jump from the ceiling on land on her feet behind him. Before he had a chance to get on the offensive, he was forced into defense. She shot a Widow's bite from his wrist that he dodged narrowly, and his dodge gave her the opportunity to send a kick to his knees and bring him sprawling to the ground.

Natasha took advantage of his down position she leaned over him, pressing her forearm to his throat, just light enough that there wasn't any real damage, and spoke.

"Rule number six: don't get pushed into defense by their offense. Pick one, and start strong." From under his mask, Peter rolled his eyes. He was getting trained by the Black Widow, an experience he was excited about at first. But when most of their lessons were just a 'beat-on-Peter' time, he was enjoying them less and less.

Natasha frowned when she saw Peter drop his hands from their fists in a silent form of surrender. He reached up and pulled off his mask and stuck it behind him, letting his sweaty hair fall out. They had been going like this for almost two hours now, and he was exhausted.

Natasha moved her forearm and flipped over the teenager, bringing him up with her. She pushed him backward until his back was pressed up against a tall block. Various blocks and walls had been set up around the training room, and they had all been used to the opponent's advantage at some point. Natasha kept her hand on Peter's chest, holding him against the pillar and held her fist inches from his face.

"Rule number one: _never give up_ ," she growled, emphasizing her point. If he gave up in a real fight, he would be dead.

In a sudden flash of movement Natasha almost didn't even catch, Peter flicked his hands up from his sides and shot two webs from his wrists. They caught on the wall behind them, and Peter tucked his legs to his chest and pulled himself up there. He caught Natasha with a big kick to the stomach and landing on the wall. He stood up straight, so he was hanging parallel to the floor looking over Natasha.

With the practice he learned over the years, he sent web after web and tied Natasha up to the floor, the sticky substance preventing her from moving. Peter smiled and jumped down from the wall, rolling when he hit the floor and sat right next to a beaming Natasha.

"I never gave up. I was looking for a better shot. Remember, rule number twenty-four. Acting is to your advantage."


	18. To Win or to Lose

**Hey guys, I'm back! See, I wasn't gone _forever_ , though it has been a while. So I've got another one of these for ya, and now all my multi-chapter fics are finished, and until I start working on new ones I'll get some more of theses written/posted. **

**So this one is like Captain America Civil War setting-ish, but it's not exactly. You'll see what I mean ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"He's running!"

"I got him!"

"Don't let Rogers getaway!"

"Wanda, take down Vision, get him off me!"

"Scott, get a move on, we need you."

"Regroup, regroup!"

"Stark."

"Rogers."

Captain America and Iron Man stood face to face, inches away from each other. The tension was high, and the battlefield stunk of sweat. Both sides wanted to win, but neither of them was going to lose.

Simultaneously, they crouched down, one hand planted in the soft grass and feet out behind them, eye contact never breaking. Behind Cap, he could hear his team calling out the shots.

" _Hike!"_

With the simple word, action broke out, everything moving at once. Sam snapped the football backward where Clint caught it, hopping back a few steps to get a look at the field. Bucky and Steve moved from their fake defensive positions, sprinting out to the side before making a mad dash for the end zone. Wanda and Scott were defense, practically pushed up against Clint, but they held their ground.

T'Challa was almost even with the Captain, powers giving him the same advantage as Steve. Bucky was on the other side of the field and was amazed as the kid who looked like he just entered high school was keeping up with him.

Clint let his defense do their job so he could focus on the field. Cap and Bucky were both out running their defense, but T'Challa was inching too close to Cap for Clint's liking. So with a fake throw out to Cap, Clint spun and threw the football in a perfect spiral for Bucky. It sliced through the air, and Bucky only held his arms out a little for the ball to practically land in his hands. With the defense jolted by the surprise throw, Bucky made the final stretch for the endzone, holding the ball triumphantly in the air as he passed over the line. Team Cap cheered as Bucky did a little touchdown dance, something he had seen on TV and tried to copy, failing miserably.

"It's not fair," Natasha groaned, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. "We agreed to not use powers, and Barton has perfect aim. That's practically a power."

"It's not like I can turn it off, Tasha," Clint countered, sticking his tongue out at his partner. "So I guess life's unfair," Natasha growled and Clint mockingly put his hands up in the air as the teams lined back up for Stark's turn at offense.

Vision played quarterback, being able to figure out trajectories on the fly since he was literally a walking computer, his aim rivaled Barton's. Cap's defense made a few good stops on the way, but a breakaway by Stark gave him enough room to catch a pass and make it to the touchdown zone.

The two teams were tied up, 14-14.

"You're going down, Stark," Steve said with a sly smile, but Tony was "just as confident.

"In your dreams, Captain."

Just before they would hike the ball for the final score, a new voice erupted across the field catching their attention.

" _Sorry to interrupt the game, sir, but there seem to be aliens swarming Washington, D.C. I have Nicholas Fury on the line for you._ "

"Work's calling. I guess we'll have to finish this up later," Tony said, wiping the sweat from his forehead and giving Steve a friendly handshake.

"You're on. Avengers…" Everyone starting jogging back towards the new Avengers buildings, following behind Cap and Tony.

"Assemble."


End file.
